DnC: Devils Never Cry
by Alex von Dualgunner
Summary: Dante's struggle against the Demon King has ended two years ago, and left the world in a state of fear and anarchy when the demonic reality of Limbo was merged with the human world. War looms on the horizon as the humans build their defenses against the demons, and dark secrets are revealed. Caught in the middle Dante must decide: are demons the real monsters, or was Vergil right?
1. Prologue: The Shack of Attack

The waves of the ocean beat silently against the wall of the abandoned, dilapidated old warehouse that remained from before the city had been destroyed. All around the building was silence, save for the occasional crash of the waves against the cold concrete. The air smelled of salt and iron, remains of the battle that had been fought ages ago. A battle that continues to this day.

A car rode up to the old warehouse. Inside it were two old men, terrified by the new reality given by the Nephilim two years ago. Each wrinkle upon their bespectacled faces told a story of how fear now ruled their lives, despite how wealthy they looked. Though currency retained its value, people had a lot less safety in it than they had before. Investments meant little when compared to what was considered a threat these days.

Their footsteps were light, and trembling. They closed their doors as lightly as they could, however against the dead silence of the old warehouse, the sound was akin to a gunshot. After flinching, both men froze for what seemed like an eternity, wondering if they had been noticed. After having calmed themselves and slowed the pace of their hearts, they looked toward the old warehouse and began their journey toward it, away from the safety of their vehicle.

The air was cold against their skin, and only felt colder as they approached the derelict structure. The trembling in their arms was more a result of their fear of what could lurk around any corner in this part of the town than it was of the cold, however; they were garbed in warm black blazers, dressed to go into a high society party. One held a chrome suitcase while the other held a small pistol. They finally reached the door, that heartless door that seemed to negate human presence.

The man holding the suitcase raised his hand, balled up into a fist, tentatively. It was shaking nigh uncontrollably, his task involved creating noise to gather attention, something he had practiced the last two years of his life avoiding. The other man swallowed nervously, facing the direction of the destroyed city, gun outstretched. Finally, with a breath, the first man brought his hand to the door, rapping against it three loud times.

Their hearts leaped to their throats with each connection, and the one holding his pistol nearly pulled the trigger on reflex. He exhaled when nothing had happened, which was an omen both good and bad. That meant that, while what hunted them had not found them yet, they also had no response from the beings that they were trying to contact. Another few minutes passed between the old men, still consoling themselves from their own actions.

Another three knocks rung out against the silence. This time, however, movement could be heard from within the building. The man with the gun now switched from looking out to looking at the door, the barrel of his gun following his line of sight. The door opened with a metallic groan, and behind it stood a cloaked man. He made a gesture for the two men to walk towards the entrance. He spoke, his voice withered and weak. "The money."

The man with the briefcase nodded hastily and held the briefcase up, sowing that he had it. The cloaked figure nodded and the men entered. The door shut behind them, the metallic grinding of rust providing some comfort. At least in here they would have some protection. Even still, it was a long time before another word was spoken. In the long dark silence, the three men had found their way to a table, where the briefcase was then opened.

Several stacks of dollar bills were in the case, along with a photo. The cloaked man paused at the photo, but began counting the stacks of money. Both of the men nervously looked around the dark room, though their nervousness did not mask what precisely they were confused about. It pronounced it, however; everything was about money, and what wasn't money was what one could get for money. Even though the Demon King Mundus was gone, this remained a habit of humanity.

The man disgustedly looked at the men, and closed the suitcase. One of them adjusted their spectacles. "…s-so…" his voice was raspy. He was a public speaker back in the days men were ruled invisibly by the demons, from their realm of Limbo. After the Demon King was defeated, and Limbo crashed with reality, however, the demons became a much more physical threat to him, and his voice was silenced. Though really, when all around him was lies, did he have a voice to begin with? "…about our deal…"

The man stood there for what seemed like an eternity, before he ran his hand along the groove of the metallic suitcase. The two men looked at him, eons speeding by in the span of a few seconds. "My experiments have come along nicely. The demons will not be able to stand against them." His arms folded, and he turned to face the window. The old men seemed to be relaxed by this news. It amused the one who had been cloaked.

"When can they be tested?" asked the one who held the gun. It had returned to its holster as soon as they were inside the building. Back in the days of Mundus, he was a high-profile bodyguard, though in the face of a demon he found that next to nothing worked in destroying them. That was why they had turned to this man, to find a way of combatting them.

"Interesting question." Said the man ominously, still facing the window. "They can be tested now, if you like. I just need two more ingredients." The speaker and his guard exchanged nervous glances. They had sacrificed much for this, for protection. A fortune and a half was allotted to this man's experiments, though he shared not what the nature of his research was, precisely. Though whatever he did, it kept the demons at distance. It was always better to be safe, however, and not clunk about the warehouse.

"E-excellent." The speaker spoke with as much confidence as he could muster. Two years of running from monsters that were previously too horrible for even his nightmares, it was amazing that he could even speak at this point. "W-what do you need?" The cloaked man chuckled a bit at this question.

"Well, the thing these machines I've built need is a body…" he began to explain.

"Mechanized suits, then?" The nervousness was evident in the guard's voice. It could be heard in the faint stutter in his voice, it could be felt on his every breath. His sweat could be smelled from a mile away, and the fact he cut off the cloaked man while he spoke was a giveaway of his fear. The man nodded at this statement.

"In a way, yes." His response put both men at ease. The cloaked man's footsteps could be heard as he stepped across the warehouse, to a few covered shapes. They looked humanoid enough. "Unfortunately, there is a fatal flaw in the design." The speaker sputtered a bit at this.

"W-well, fix it! I am not paying you for flawed work!" Bravado is sometimes a very hard thing to fake, especially when just two years ago you lived in what you considered the lap of luxury, not having any fear of death, nor need to prepare for anything of the sort of mimicking bravery. However much the man wished he sounded intimidating, his bark sounded more akin to a desperate little animal, cornered and its last escape shut off from him.

"This fatal flaw is what makes these such an effective demon fighting tool, however." The man continued, having been cut off twice. He cared not for their impudence or irrationality at this point. He pulled the cover from its resting place, and the men stared in awe at what they looked upon. "Now, who's up for testing this?"

The seemingly empty warehouse had two visitors that night, and though before it had been the quietest district in the city, now some of the most blood-curdling cries came from it. The cloaked man's laughter could be heard in the background to their cries for help, however there was nobody nearby who could help. The man picked up the photo, an image of a black-haired man wearing a hoodie displayed upon it. He smirked and walked away from the scene.

* * *

The sound of the stereo filled the small trailer as a young man stepped out from his bathroom, rigorously scrubbing a goop into his midnight-black hair. He looked in a mirror he passed as he did so, making sure to cover every bit of silver he could find there. He let out a sigh when the phone started going off, his arms falling to his sides. It would dry, he decided, given time. He picked up the phone that lay beside his stereo, and spun to fall into the recliner beside it, letting his foot fall on the "mute" button as he answered.

"Demon Dante's Shack of Attack, how can I help you?" His voice was smooth as he spoke, though confident. He waited a moment before he moved to hang up, then he heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Sorry, Dante. Just…the name of your store…I can't take it seriously." Dante rolled his eyes, listening to his ally, Kat. She was the person who had helped him set up his store in the first place, though she continually refused to help him name it. Perhaps she got some sort of sadistic pleasure out of it, he thought.

"What would you have me name it, then?" He kicked back in his recliner, raising his feet. There were a few moments of pause, and then Kat changed the subject.

"I have another freelance job for you, in the Old Residential District."

"Awful lot of me not getting paid, Kat. How do I keep this hunk of junk if I have no cash?"

"The world is filled with demons, Dante. The market will eventually call for people like you to destroy them. Until then…"

"Get my name out there. It doesn't help when I have to keep changing my name, though."

"It's a rough time we all live in." Dante exhaled and looked around his wrecked little home. He could not help but remember that his last place was used as a weapon against him by the Hunter, a demon sent to kill him by Mundus. Fast forward two years and his new home was still as much of a mess as the old one.

"…okay. What is the job?"

"There are demons infesting an old corporate building. One of my contacts needs them all eliminated. He has scouted out at least three dozen demons."

"What kind are we looking at, here?" Dante stood up from his chair, walking towards his door.

"Low-level demons, should be pretty easy to take on for you."

"Got it." Dante hung up the phone, grabbing his coat off the rack by his door. He kicked it open, his fresh-dyed hair not flowing whatsoever with the wind from the outside. Before him was a well-kept street; he hopped onto the pavement of the road and began his trek forward from the trailer. He and Kat had taken up residence in the human stronghold of "New Limbo", named for its proximity to Limbo City. It was a good community, he had no real complaints as to the other residents. Kat refused to live in his trailer with him, so he saw her every once in a while when he wandered the streets looking for work, but not much else.

When he and Vergil had defeated Mundus, crashing Limbo into the real world, demons suddenly became a much more real threat. It allowed them to defeat the Demon King, however it also meant that humans knew demons existed, with all the implications that followed. Limbo City's destruction was known world-wide, and is considered ground zero for the demonic threat. As such, the people who retreated into New Limbo were cut off from the rest of the world.

All around him were posters of how the people should fear the demons. Dante could only look at them and feel a personal failure. This was not what Vergil wanted with the world, not how he wanted the humans to react. Perhaps he thought he could control these people. It was a mockery, and he should have known it. The man exhaled angrily, who would have known that his actions would be the prologue to modern day Earth.

Propaganda aside, the people inside New Limbo held much fear for the outside world. With a weak connection through the net, they were only able to get the faintest ideas of what the outside world thought, through scraps of information and data they managed to retrieve. They feared a beast that still wandered Limbo City, and those fears propagated New Limbo's own fears of what existed outside.

Soon the gate to New Limbo was within a visible distance. On it was graffiti, done by Kat to help keep demons out of the city, though the residents thought her just a vagrant who kept up her own sin. That was fine with her, so it did not bother Dante very much when they tried to clean it up. Kat just reapplied it as necessary. At the gate he could see a small, hooded figure. He smirked and continued on his way to meet her.

"What are the chances?" he asked as he approached the figure. She looked at her.

"That you'll stop dying your hair that color? None." Dante chuckled at her quick response to him. He looked at the graffiti on the gates, a circle that was decorated all sorts of odd seals that made no sense to anybody but Kat.

"You hear to say 'goodbye', then?" The black-haired demon hunter asked, poking the seal, giving him a shock that shook him to his very core. Kat glared at him while he recovered from his poor choice of action.

"The seal deters demons for a reason, Dante. It's not just a fancy marking that looks weird to them." Dante held the hand he touched the seal with as though it burned, but he managed to force a smile anyway.

"I dunno. Looks strange enough to keep _me_ away." Kat shook her head.

"Don't forget that you aren't human. Please." Dante shook his head.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Look, see?" He waved the hand he touched the seal with, showing it had fully recovered. The girl had a worried look on her face, one that killed the smile on Dante's face. "Promise. Nothing out there can kill me."

Kat shook her head and smeared one of the symbols on the gate. She opened it up, and Dante looked her in the eyes. He gave a last reassuring smile, slipping through the doors while the alarms went off. Nobody was permitted to leave the stronghold without the permission of the whole community, represented by a singular council. Kat would be spraying on the door to repair the seal, and could explain her reasons easily enough. "I was tagging the gate, and accidentally touched the switch…" He could see her getting away with that.

Dante stepped away from the gate, looking around at the ruined city of Limbo. It was commonly known as the Old City to the people in the Stronghold, though they rarely even spoke of it. Finding his way around the ruins of Limbo City was not difficult, especially since demons could not pull him into the alternate, demon reality known as Limbo any longer.

Finding the building in question, however, was a more difficult proposition. He looked around at the many dilapidated buildings. Even in their broken state, something brought about by his own actions, they had a sense of grandeur. Larger than life, one might say. Though many humans evacuated Limbo City when the Gate to Hell was closed by Vergil, and Limbo merged with reality.

He let out a breath and folded his arms, looking up at the various buildings in the once great metropolis. His arms fell to his sides when he heard a low growl from around the bend. He recognized that growl from anywhere, the growl of the monsters that had hunted him for the better part of his life. Demons.

The hunter felt a familiar weight on his back as his sword, Rebellion, materialized. He reached up and grabbed the handle, his other hand reaching for one of his pistols, Ebony. His movements were slow, but they were deliberate. The demon did not know of Dante's presence, and as such he had the upper hand for now. He approached the corner, and rounded it slowly, looking at two demons before a building.

It looked like a nightclub, in all honesty. Dante was somewhat confused as to what the demons were doing infesting buildings. They weren't zombies or anything, they were every bit as intelligent as a human being, so why would they all hang around a building like that? He stood back a moment, and pondered, then looked at the demons again. "Hey, shitheads! Remember me?" he drew Rebellion and walked towards them. "I dunno what you guys are doing hanging out here, but no party's ever complete without me."

They were grotesque abominations, demons. Even though what he gazed upon were merely pawns, they were monsters of the highest, most disgusting, caliber. Scarring covered their bodies, like they were composed of burnt flesh and paper, bones sticking out at next to every joint. They held serrated blades, and their eyes glowed a bright red as their gaze fell upon him. "…Dan…te…" one of them muttered, moving towards the black-haired demon hunter.

"You got it," Scoffed Dante, pointing his blade at his enemies. "Anyway, the neighbors called, place smells like crap. Guess it's time for you assholes to head out." He pointed Rebellion in a random direction, a gesture complementing his statement. With that, the demons flew towards him, quickly enough that any normal human would not have had the time to react.

Dante was no human. He slammed the broadsword into the ground before one of the demon's path, causing the monster to slam face-first into the flat of his weapon. The demon hunter took the opportunity to stomp the demon's spine into the ground, leaving Rebellion in place while he took flight, landing a few meters behind the demons. He drew Ebony's sister pistol, a silver pistol by the name of Ivory, and aimed them both towards his enemies.

"Come now, even I'm not that narcissistic." Dante remarked at the demon whose face was flattened against Rebellion's blade. Blood was painted across the small bit of floor it remained upon, as well as on the hunter's boot. The other demon looked his way, and he stared directly into its eyes. This must have been quite a shock to the demon, who by now was more than likely used to hunting humans who'd flinch at the very scent of these demons, let alone their visage.

Dante gave the monster no time to ponder what he was, and fired several bullets from his pistols. The demon casually danced through the pellets of lead, however, and took a beeline straight to their source. The hunter smirked as he sidestepped the linear attack, decorating the side of the demon with several bullets as it passed by him. His coat swayed as he faced his enemy who'd just struck at him.

"If you want to dance with classy ladies like Ebony and Ivory…" mocked the demon hunter, kissing the barrel of Ebony, "…you're gonna need better moves than that." The demon, covered in blood that had splashed out from the impact of each bullet, moved to face him with slow, pained movements. He gazed directly into its eyes once more, holding Ebony out to face his enemy.

Pain filled his body before he could pull the trigger, however; he looked down to see the blade of Rebellion piercing his chest completely, his own blood oozing forth from the entry and exit wounds. He gasped in pain while the demons reveled in their victory. Then, the sound of a gunshot filled their ears, and the demon that had held Rebellion dropped to the ground. "Caught me by surprise that time." He stated as he turned to face the demon, which was now on the ground, stunned by his actions. "You know my name, but do you know who I am?"

It would have been quite a sight for anything to see. The demon hunter moved and spoke as though he did not have a gigantic broadsword piercing his chest, and yet blood still spilled forth from the wound. The other demon took its chances and charged from its spot, blade pointed towards Dante's chest. The demon hunter scoffed and let the attack connect. He grunted as the weapon pierced his ribcage, then he grabbed the weapon and pulled it deeper, forcing the demon to share his fate upon Rebellion.

He then raised his leg and kicked the demon off, with such force that it flew into the building behind it. Dust raised violently from the destruction, and Rebellion was pulled all the way through the hunter due to the action. The blade fell to the ground with a dull _clank_, and Dante cracked his knuckles. The wound had sealed up already, and the hunter picked up his sword. "My name is Dante." He looked toward the demon on the ground, stabbing its shoulder, pinning it to the ground. He picked Ivory up from where it had landed on the ground. "Son of the demon Sparda…" he fired, the bullet piercing all the way through the demon's skull, killing it instantly. He stood and faced the demon he kicked earlier, which had already returned for a second lesson in pain. "…and the angel Eva."

He pulled the trigger as the barrel of Ivory lined up with the demon's skull, and it dropped as quickly as the last had. He exhaled as he looked at the corpses, holstering Ivory and grabbing Ebony and Rebellion from their places in the corpses. "…and now I'm talking to fuckin' demons…you're losing it, Dante…"

He looked back to the building, holstering Ebony. Rebellion remained in his hand as he approached the building. No telling who resided in there, especially if Kat's intel on the building was correct. Thirty two lower class demons was nothing to the hunter, he was just playing with these two. He kicked the door open and walked in to the dusty old buildings. "Alright, cowards!"He called out, but received no response from his actions. "Where the fuck are the rest of you?!"

He walked through the old lobby. There were no signs of decoration or anything, nothing to specify at all where he was or who owned the building prior to his battle with the Demon King. He pulled out of his pocket a cell phone, and dialed Kat's number. Ring, ring, ring, all the sound in the world and no demons came out. The demon hunter was a bit disappointed, but heard an answer from the other end.

"I'm about thirty demons short, Kat." Dante said as he leaned against a wall next to an elevator.

"Dante, you have to return to New Limbo—now." He chuckled a bit at Kat's command, surely she was joking about that one.

"Look, I got a _little_ bloodied up, but that's no reason to pull the mission. Where do you want me to go?"

"It's not that! Dante, you need to listen to me. Get back here, _now_."

"Just tell me what I'm looking for in these buildings and I'll head back."

"Did you kill all the demons?"

"I think so, but like I said, most of the guest list did not attend it looks like."

"There is something else in those buildings, Dante. My contact just got back to me, told me to get you out of there." A tremor could be felt. The demon hunter's heart rate picked up a bit. He smirked and acted as though he'd felt nothing.

"Would that 'something else' be a stronger demon?"

"Yes, now would you please—"

"Cause I'm lookin' at him now. Tell your contact to give me a grocery list. I'll be back within the hour." He closed the cell and walked around the lobby, eager to see what followed him into the building. "Fashionably late to the party, eh?" He spun to see a large ape-like creature had appeared behind him, fist raised. He leapt backward, avoiding the attack and the after effects of said attack, and held Rebellion before himself and his foe.

It drew back, then lunged at him. He gracefully rolled under the attack, and ended up behind the monkey demon. He drew Ebony and fired a few bullets at the creature, though they seemed to bounce off of its thick hide. It turned to face him, its grotesque facial features twisted into what looked like a mocking grin. It charged at him once more, continuing its onslaught through the lobby, splinters of desks and seats flying through the air.

Dante backpedalled again and again, staying just away from the monkey's attacks, until he finally ran into the wall. He leaped back onto it, and kicked off, pushing him above the attacks. He landed into a roll, spinning and firing a few more bullets from Ebony, and while the bullets themselves bounced off harmlessly, the force of them pushed the monkey off balance and through the wall. "You know, in most games you get marked down for friendly fire!" the hunter called out. The monster looked back at him after pulling itself free of the wall, this time he had the cocky grin that would piss off any number of enemies.

It lunged at him, this time he sidestepped the attack. He could feel the air flow by him as the attack connected with the ground, and grimaced at the thought of it connecting with him. He needed to stay light on his feet for this battle. Before he had any chance to continue his motion, however, the monster spun and backhanded him outside of the building.

He landed hard on his back, letting out a grunt of pain. His eyes widened, however, at what he saw next. Given no time to recover from being smacked through a building, Dante had to roll out of the way of a ten ton gorilla thing falling from the sky, though like any good impact it sent everything near it skyward. Dante spun and landed on his feet, his bones mending themselves as fast as his skin had. He drew Rebellion across the ground, sparks flying as he did so. "I guess it's time to stop fooling around." He let out a sigh as the monkey flew at him once more.

He holstered Ebony and gracefully danced aside the attack, drawing his sword across the side of the demon as it passed him. Blood sprayed forth from the demon's thick hide as he did so, coating him and the ground around him. It let out a blood-curdling roar as he wiped his jacket off and wiped some out of his hair. "What's the matter? Your feelings hurt by a prick?" he taunted, then looked at his hand. He then looked at the ground, realizing that the blood that had landed on his head was a few shades darker than the blood on the ground.

"Damn it!" he muttered, and looked at the demon. "Do you know how much a bottle of hair-dye costs these days?!" He flew at his wounded foe, dragging his blade behind him as he did, and swung the weapon in a full arc as he approached his enemy. The weapon cut through the demon like a hot knife through butter, blood flying through the air as the demon realized that the hunter had torn along its throat.

Dante finished his attack with a swift kick to the face, launching the monster's head off of it before it could even bring its hands to its throat in surprise. He landed on his feet, panting for a moment while his body regenerated from the attacks he had just endured. He pulled out his cell, which had miraculously survived the fight, dialing Kat's number. It rang for a few moments, and the hunter kicked the corpse of the monkey while he waited the girl's answer.

"Killed it." Dante said smoothly when he heard Kat pick up on her end.

"You…killed it?" The surprise in her voice made Dante scoff.

"It wasn't that bad of a monster. I slew Mundus, give me _some_ credit." There was a silence on the other end, which the hunter took advantage of. "So, find out what the client wanted yet?"

"I…thought you were coming back."

"You didn't ask." Dante exhaled, disappointed in her lack of trust in his abilities. "I'll head to the top floor while you get in contact with the client. Tell them I want extra for slaying the demon, as it was not a part of the original contract."

"I'm not your secretary, Dante."

"Please?" Another silence, one in which Dante had covered distance in the ruined lobby during. "I'll take the silence as a yes. Thanks, Kat." He hung up and looked around at the destroyed room he was in. He pushed a button on the elevator, and rested against a wall, looking at the broken wood and glass that lay upon the floor. The doors opened with a _ding_, and Dante walked into the small space. When next the door opened, Dante walked into the top floor of the building.

To his surprise, the room was still fully-functioning, as though humans had just left. Computers hummed with life, and numbers were sprawled across screens everywhere. What he saw on the computer at the far end of the room, however, was the most surprising part of the whole thing. He gazed upon a diagram of what looked like a humanoid, but the caption was "Anti-Demon Project".

His cell rang with Kat's tune. He picked it up, listening to it for a moment, and enjoying the music, before finally opening the device and putting it to his ear. "Hey Kat."

"The clients want you to return, since all the demons are gone. They'll do the rest themselves," explained the girl over the phone. Dante nodded, staring at the screen a moment longer. Then he shook his head.

"Okay. I'll be back in a few."

"Something wrong, Dante?"

"Nah, I'm fine." Replied the demon hunter. "Expect me back within the hour."


	2. Mission One: New Limbo

Hello and welcome to the official first chapter of DnC: Devils Never Cry!  
I will try and update this every Thursday, so stay tuned! All feedback is welcomed and appreciated! Thank you so much for reading my story!

* * *

One sharp smack of flesh against steel was what had awoken the black-haired demon hunter. He let out a grunt as he rolled out of the bed, landing against the hard floor of his trailer. His vision was fuzzy, and his arms were weakened from how sluggish he usually was after waking up. He grabbed the edge of his bed and supported himself in standing up. This caused the blanket to fall all the way off of him, revealing his naked form.

He stumbled towards the door where he'd heard the noise, which had repeated itself several times by now, each time the sound became more and more akin to nails screeching down a blackboard. Dante reached out and grabbed the handle, pulling the door open. His eyes were bloodshot from his sleep-deprived partying he had been doing the night prior, and he must have looked very intimidating to the small man who stood before him, for his knees shook as he gazed upon Dante's nude form.

The demon hunter stood and stared for a few minutes, waiting for the man to start talking. He leaned against the frame of the door, and crossed his legs while raising an eyebrow, noticing that the air smelled of refuse. Finally, his lack of patience got the better of him, and he opened his mouth. "What?" His voice was hoarse, and his grumpiness betrayed him. The man quivered even more now that Dante had become vocal, though he did not retreat.

"Y-your presence has been requested…at the Council…"

"Since when has New Limbo had a Council?" Dante's forefinger tapped against his bare triceps while the man broke out into a sweat.

"Y-yes…the community formed it not a week ago…"

"Must have been while I was out hunting demons." Remarked the hunter. The man seemed intrigued by this statement.

"Th-that is what the Council wishes to speak to about." Dante shifted his weight, no longer leaning upon the frame of his door.

"The 'Council' wishes to speak to me about my demon hunting?"

"Y-yes…at your…earliest convenience…" He said. The demon hunter scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think you're gonna stop me from doing what I love, though." The man scurried away while Dante turned around and looked into his trailer. He stretched, still feeling sluggish, wishing he could have gone back to the night before, when he had plenty of drink, time, and women. He grabbed his undershirt off of his bed, hastily pulling it over his torso.

He pulled the red amulet from beneath the undershirt, and looked at it for a moment, remembering his mother who'd given that amulet to him. He exhaled a moment and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on and stepping into his boots. He looked into the mirror, running his fingers through his coarse black hair. He winced, thinking he saw a stray streak of silver. Ever since his battle with Vergil, it had been annoyingly returning to a light silver color every time he fought demons too seriously. Luckily, it had remained black since he re-applied his black dye a week ago.

He opened his fridge and grabbed a cold pizza and a beer, turning on his television and flopping onto his bed. He took a bite of the pepperoni while he watched the static on the screen dissolve to show the local news. That was all that showed anymore, and it disappointed the demon hunter. He would go out into the world, but Kat was insistent that there was in fact a powerful demon that wandered around New Limbo that he just couldn't find whenever he went hunting.

He took a drink of his beer, feeling the cool liquid flow down his throat, and sat up. He looked at the brand, proudly displaying the number of the beast, "666". He fought demons, he slew the Demon King, he laughed at the thought of dueling Satan at this point. Standing up, he finished his pizza and threw the bottle back into the fridge and walked out of the trailer, grabbing his coat.

He covered his eyes when he saw the bright sun, and realized that he did not even know where the mysterious new "Council" had established itself. He shrugged, they'd find him eventually he decided. His coat swayed behind him as he strode down the road, a confident grin on his face. He was headed for the local bar.

It was a small place that was run by the man who went by the name "Charles", located in the center of the residential district of New Limbo. It had a homey feeling, and though it was a much quieter place than the Devil's Dalliance, a club that Dante used to frequent, Dante found that it was a place that he could relax with people he was familiar with. Once in a while, Kat even showed up, and then the party really began. Humanity may have been living in a nightmare because of the demons, but that did not mean that humans were going to fully forget any reason for happiness.

By the time he arrived, nobody else was really there. Drinking in the middle of the day was not something most people could stomach, though Dante could drink anytime, anywhere. He sat at the bar, lazily tossing his coat onto the stool next to him and knocking on the counter until the server appeared. "Dante." He sounded surprised, which amused the demon hunter enough to chuckle.

"You know me, Charles. I can drink anytime." The bartender, one of Dante's personal friends he'd made over the two years of New Limbo, grabbed a martini glass and poured a clear liquid into it. "Not my usual drink," he observed, "what's going on?"

"Well, you were summoned by the Council. You wouldn't want to be too wasted by the time you get there." Dante fiddled with his glass on the counter as he listened.

"What is this Council, anyway? Never heard of them." He finally asked, taking as small a sip as he could of the glass, though already half of the contents had been downed.

"We all decided that a centralized government would be somewhat necessary, in case we ever come into contact with anyone of the outside world." Charles said, replacing the bottle onto the shelf. "Since you returned from your latest unsanctioned hunt, you seem to have been living under a rock, yet I see you in here nightly."

"Yeah, yeah…" Dante muttered, placing his drink on the counter, remembering back to what he saw a week ago. He'd gotten a nice sum of money from his clients to keep quiet about it, but whatever this project was, it bothered the hunter. If nothing else, he did not need the competition for the market of demon hunting, though he saw the value in providing humanity with some peace of mind. "Any clue what the Council wants?"

"You didn't hear this from me, but…" Charles started, and leaned in on the counter, Dante following suit until their faces were an inch's distance from each other. "…the Council has managed to make contact with the outside world, and needs someone to go deliver a confirmation. We might be…" Before he could continue, the door to the bar opened loudly, and in walked a large-muscled man. Dante recognized him as Abel, the local shepherd.

"Abel!" Charles called out as the man lumbered over to the bar. "How are you today?"

"Fine. What's Dante doing out of his den this early?"

"Fuck you too, Abel." Dante retorted and stood up, Abel let out a hearty laugh and smacked the hunter square on the back.

"It's a fine thing you do for us, Dante, never misunderstand!" He chuckled, and Dante smirked.

"Killing demons has been something of a hobby of mine for a while. Glad I can make some money off of it now." Abel laughed again at Dante's comment. "So, what have you heard of this mysterious Council?"

"The Council's done much to organize the community. Can't believe we did not assemble one before now." Dante nodded, taking a sip of his drink as he listened to Abel speak. "The market district now has an agreed trade among all the merchants there. Shopping should be a lot easier, we've also made headway into organizing a Demon Hunting Guild that you may be interested in joining."

"A guild?" Dante chuckled. "Nah, I'm more of a loner."

"Tis a shame," Abel noted, "you are quite the able hunter."

"The best." Dante's comment brought about another chuckle from the shepherd. "So, why would they want to meet with me?"

"Probably to see if you've anything to contribute to the Guild, any notes on hunting demons, if you'd like to participate…that sort of thing." The bartender chipped in, leaning on the counter.

"Heh, the only advice I have towards killing a demon…" Dante finished his drink, "…don't stop shooting. Where is the Council's main hall or whatever they use?"

"They renovated a building north of the Market District, can't miss it." Charles said, grabbing Dante's glass as the hunter grabbed his coat off the stool. "Got banners all over it now."

"Thanks! Hey Abel, don't let your sheep near my trailer again. Still smells of your shit!" Abel laughed and Charles waved as Dante threw his coat on and walked to the door.

"I'll definitely try and clean up after them!" Dante looked back and smiled, happy to have seen them again, and left the building, looking around at all the people walking around. If there was a sky, you'd have hardly noticed that the demon apocalypse had happened, or that society had really changed all that much. Sadly, looking up you could see the lifeless steel that protected New Limbo from sky-faring demons, and be reminded that demons did indeed populate the Earth, and the events of two years ago did happen.

Kat and Dante managed to avoid the finger of blame for the incident, instead the Order took the fall for the causation of the apocalypse. Humanity recognized as a whole that Mundus was an evil tyrant and needed to be destroyed, however they were violently unaccepting of the veil being lifted from their eyes, even though when the phenomenon first happened, humans around the world were stating everywhere that they "had awoken".

The Market District was not a place Dante frequented, he relied on Kat's resourcefulness to net him jobs and contracts, as his work was officially frowned upon by the community. Unofficially, everybody was grateful for the jobs he did, the demons he killed, as every trophy he brought home meant one less demon was out there.

All around the hunter, people called out for people to browse through their stalls, to look through their wares, and to sell their product. This district was definitely a change from the old society, where people did not have to be so ravenous about customers. Well, outwardly ravenous, as the demons ran the economy. Dante navigated his way through the crowds of people buying groceries and tools necessary to survive until the next day. His eyes fell north, to a building which did indeed look different from the rest.

He began to approach the building, pushing through mobs of people. He ignored their cries of foul play, and the curses that were thrown at him, as he was used to doing. His jacket swayed in the wind as he placed his foot on the first stair, looking along the staircase leading to the entrance of the huge marble building. It was akin to the Congress building in architecture, which Dante supposed was the reason that they chose this as the place they would root themselves.

He opened the door and entered a long hallway. The building was clearly dilapidated, and undergoing renovation. As he continued down the hall, he pondered about what Charles had said. A demon hunting guild was an interesting-sounding idea, it would be a much easier way to get contracts, and he'd have a lot more revenue…maybe even be able to get an office of his own for the Shack of Attack.

As he processed this, he opened a door leading into a room filled with people, five of which sat above the others. Looking around, he noticed that Kat was in the room too. His hands moved to Ebony and Ivory cautiously, he now eyed the men sitting above everyone else. "Dante," said the councilman sitting in the middle. "Pleased to see you here at last."

"We've been waiting all day." Kat remarked, at which the demon hunter relaxed a bit and shrugged.

"The messenger said 'at my earliest convenience'." He turned his attention to the councilman. "So, what is it you guys want?"

"As you may be aware, we are looking into starting a demon hunting guild." Dante opened his mouth to respond, but the councilman raised his hand to halt him. "We are aware that you are running an unsanctioned business, 'Demon Dante's Shack of Attack', and propose that instead, you take charge of the guild." The hunter looked to his side, at Kat, who returned his glance.

"What's in it for me?" he asked, folding his arms.

"A steady flow of currency, first and foremost," the councilman started, and looked at his paper, "As well as scouts and tools so you may find and hunt demons more efficiently. As well, your gallivanting would be sanctioned, we would not stop you."

"You couldn't stop me anyway." Dante let his arms fall to his side and stepped forward. "Look, you guys are nice, and I encourage you all to start a guild. Great idea, really. But I'm more of a loner type. If you want to hire my services from time to time, I'd be happy to hunt demons for you…"

"How about this, then." The councilman said, smiling. "You remain independent of the guild, but perform contracts for it. You will be sanctioned, remain a face of hope for people joining the guild, get paid, and remain a loner." Dante's eyes widened.

"You just sweetened this deal a whole helluva lot." He stated, looking at Kat. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure…" The hunter raised a brow at Kat's comment. "…he's a politician, they twist their words as badly as any demon. What if he…?"

"Legal jargon won't stop me, Kat." Dante assured her, "Now, where do we sign?" The councilman produced a paper and handed it to the hunter. On it was signed a name, "Sir Jonathon". Dante signed his name, and handed it back. "The Honorable Sir Jonathon, huh?" he chuckled a bit at the name while the councilman looked at the contract.

"Indeed. We have a contract for you already, as it turns out." This piqued the hunter's interest, even as it distracted from his initial quip. "It is not a simple hunting job, however, we made contact with someone outside of the city. However, our broadcasts are simply wretched, so we need a physical messenger."

"You," Dante pointed, "are sending me," his finger came to himself, "outside of the boundaries of Limbo City?"

"You can handle it, demon hunter. I am sure." Dante's eyes moved to Kat. One of the reasons they were discreet about how they moved in and out of the city was because it was traditionally forbidden to leave. That said, they were never stopped, because the devil hunter always returned, and his work was for the good of the community. The fact that they were being sent out by the new figurehead of the city was an astonishing one.

"You signed it." He nodded and shrugged.

"Guess I did." His shoulders slacked and he looked at the councilmen. "Okay, so, I'm heading out of the region of Limbo City. What am I doing exactly?"

"Sending a message of our existence. Maybe we can get some assistance in moving to a more populous zone. Our trades are growing stale." Dante scoffed a bit. That was quite an understatement. There had been no trades for two years, due to them being cut off from the rest of the world; they were lucky enough to have made a stronghold over one of the old supermarkets. Turns out when it was advertised that they could sustain a society for years, they weren't kidding.

"How much am I getting paid for this?"

"You will be granted free reign of where you go in the world, first of all." Dante raised a brow. Freedom was a tempting offer for the hunter. "Secondly, we will grant you five hundred dollars' worth of whatever currency agreement we are given by this settlement we've discovered." The hunter nodded.

"Got it." Dante was more excited about this than anything. For two years he had not journeyed outside the limits of the ruins of Limbo City, because he knew that he would more like than not be able to return to them. Now, however, he left the Council with a smile on his face; he would finally get to see with his own eyes what had become of the world outside New Limbo; were they as terrified of the demons as the denizens of this stronghold were? Were they really so populous in the world that the humans were all overrun and driven into strongholds like this?

He approached his little trailer, a spring in his step. He had to know. He opened the door to the trailer, grabbing his pistols off of his nightstand, and placing them into holsters he kept under his jacket. He spun to leave, before being confronted by Kat. The girl stood at a small stature, and her face was decorated with reminders of the past. A lifetime would not be enough to wash away the scars caused by being kidnapped by the King of Demons, let alone two years.

"Promise me you'll be careful, Dante." She said to him, her words came in a whisper. He looked at her, a sad expression of his own, remembering all she had done for him up to this point. Were it not for her, he and his brother would not have been able to defeat the Demon King, and even after that, she helped Dante integrate into the new society, helped him see that he could still bring some good to the world. She was the last relic he had of his adventures with the Order, the last good memory of those times before he realized his lineage. Before he defeated Mundus.

He pulled her into an embrace, and let go. "Relax, Kat." He said, a confident smirk on his face. "Nothing out there can kill me." With that, he exited his trailer, and looked up at the metallic ceiling that kept New Limbo safe; taking in a deep breath. He approached the gate, which was surrounded by people from all around the stronghold. The devil hunter navigated his way through the crowd, finding the Council waiting for him at the gates.

"Good luck, Dante." Dante turned to see the familiar face of Abel, standing next to the bartender Charles. The hunter smiled and waved at the community as the Council opened up the gate, leading out into the city. The hunter took a step outside, hearing not what he expected. Instead of an immediate closing of the gate, he heard the people cheering him on. Dante couldn't help but smile.

It was time to find a new land.


	3. Mission Two: The Fallen City

Welcome to the second chapter of my fanfiction! Enjoy and leave comments!

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The Son of Sparda trekked forth from the stronghold of New Limbo, excitement in his chest as he gazed around at the ruins of Limbo City. He gazed at fallen buildings and destroyed roads and thoroughfares—all a result of his duel with Mundus two years ago. He silently clenched his fists at the thought of what had happened that day. The day he fought his twin, the person he'd trusted with his life for the first time.

His footsteps echoed out along the cityscape of which he traversed, as though he were the only person who existed in the fallen metropolis of Limbo City. But he knew better. He knew that around next to every corner he passed were even more demons, all watching him. All waiting to attack. That was the risk that the hunter took every time he exited the stronghold, and soon he would traverse beyond even the limits of New Limbo.

Even as he physically traversed the silent, lonely streets, his mind was elsewhere. His mind was in a loop of his fight with Mundus, his battle with Vergil, and his victory over both. He remembered the betrayed look on his twin's face, he remembered every clash of their blades, Rebellion and Yamato, and he remembered the malevolent, angered look in Vergil's eyes. He grimaced at the thought as he moved forward, each step slowed as though he were wading through a lake.

He looked up at last, at the road before him. The city had been destroyed pretty damn well in his duel against the Demon King, no place was more evident of this than where the battle itself occurred—a giant crater where the Silver Sacks Tower used to be. One lone pillar of the building still stood, and though Dante had wondered why it had not fallen, he was incapable of answering. He paused for a moment, gazing down at the pit before him, where Mundus had summoned as much of his might as he could muster.

The devil hunter looked around at his environment again; the carnage still seemed so fresh, as though the battle had only happened yesterday. As though he had fought against his two greatest foes naught but a few hours ago. He shuddered to think about how revealing demonkind to humanity had actually affected, how easily he had been manipulated by Vergil into bringing about this apocalypse.

He looked up at the tower. It was needed, though. The people needed to be free of the demon's grasp, to be released from their influence. While for Vergil the whole effort was so that he could be free of the oppression of Mundus, Dante's own freedom from being hunted by demons was just a convenient side effect of his efforts. He smiled as he gazed up at the tower. What he did, he did for humanity. His last words to Vergil rang true in his mind.

"Humanity is under my protection now."

He chuckled to himself while he considered the implications of his words. Humanity was under his protection, and he had a dark feeling that Vergil would test the sincerity of his words soon. He hoped, however, his twin would come to his senses, however the more likely outcome would be his twin trying to force his mindset upon Dante. The hunter shook his head and turned to face the road that led outside of the city.

The walk was silent as he looked around at the graffiti that decorated the walls. Humanity did not immediately retreat into strongholds upon the demon's revelation. They took up arms against the monstrosities, and fought against them. Dante himself was one of the people who took up a bulk of the battles waged against the demons in Limbo, which is partially the reason that they did not attack him as avidly as they would have anyone else who strayed into the ruins.

The artwork upon the walls depicted the demons striking down at humanity, and humanity striking back. However much that Dante, and a few other well-trained humans, were able to do battle with these monsters, the fact remained that even with the military's arsenal and might, the demonic armies were simply too much for the unified human government to take on. More people died every day that the people remained on the offensive against the demonic hordes.

An old blood was painted on the walls, though it was not painted of the variety spilt by humans or demons. The paint depicted the blood on both sides of the battle, the people who'd given their lives in an effort to purge the demon plague from the world. As further evidence along the walls the hunter walked along depicted, however, the people were unprepared for such an event. Demons were too deeply intertwined with the human's society for them to stand much of an actual chance in the war. While some stood up, many fell within the first few days.

The united armies called a fullscale retreat, abandoning Limbo City to focus on their own countries. Dante could only imagine that they had declared the city to be a forbidden zone, as it was undoubtedly the place on Earth most infested with demons; being the seat of the throne for the King of Demons can cause demons to flock like mindless birds.

The hunter gritted his teeth at this latest mural. Dante and Kat decided to remain in Limbo City to assist with the people who could not escape when the army retreated. The artwork depicted the silver haired warrior clawing his way through many demons with his demonic blade, a hooded girl behind him directing the people to flee into the stronghold. He ran a hand through his hair instinctively, remembering that day.

He must have killed a thousand demons that day, when they all attacked the small human encampment in town. The army managed to evacuate some of the people, but their escape was hastened when the hordes came down upon them. The hunter recalled fighting off the monsters so the rich and well off could make it on the escape shuttles and flee, and then he remembered battling for hours on end so the rest could make it to a makeshift encampment.

This event is known by the people of New Limbo as the day that they were betrayed by the world. They sealed themselves off, and tried to be as standalone as possible, however even with Dante there, that would not always be a possibility. They knew this. This was why he now wandered the abandoned streets of the city, why he journeyed forth from his new home in search of aid for the city. Some communication.

He had finally approached the city limits of Limbo, however something caught his eye. Like a faint glimmer of metal, except this wasn't any kind of metal he would have expected to see, and it was now gone. He turned from the city limits, walking back along the road some ways to try and find exactly what it was that he had seen just then. He found nothing upon closer examination, and shrugged, thinking it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Then, the ground began to crack under him. At first it was hardly noticeable, however when the whole ground shifted beneath him, the hunter reacted instinctively. He leaped backward, landing on his feet after flipping backwards, seeing the rocks fall some distance below. All his years here in Limbo City, and he never knew that the city had catacombs. Maybe it was because he spent so much time in the alternate reality of Limbo he never had time to explore the physical world of Earth. He knelt down, cautiously looking down and seeing nothing but darkness in the pit below him.

The ground began to crack again. The hunter looked back to the city limits, considering the idea of descending into the catacombs and investigating what was down here. The ground continued to crack, and Dante grew a mischievous grin. New Limbo had some time. They were protected by their steel shell that they erected as soon as the retreat happened. Dante relaxed and stood at the edge of the hole, watching the ground continue to crack before him, and fell backwards.

As he fell through the air, taking on the shape of a spire with his arms to his sides and legs together, he looked at the debris that fell along with him. He looked down, trying to get an idea of what exactly he was falling into. Before he'd fallen too far, however, he flexed his body so his feet met with some of the rubble, and kicked off of it, propelling himself further downward. He let out a cry of excitement as he kicked off of another small piece of rubble, propelling himself downward at a breakneck speed.

Finally he kicked off of a piece of the rubble in the opposite direction, skyward, and landed safely on his feet, casually sidestepping the rest of the rubble as it impacted with the ground. His coat swayed as he looked around whatever dark cavern he had found himself in, and wondered how exactly someplace like this had ended up here. Maybe these were some old tunnels Mundus used for smuggling operations? If so there could be some amount of riches, or power, in these old tunnels.

He walked along in the darkness, his eyes having trouble adjusting. It was as though the darkness wanted to be there, as though it were sentient, his eyes refused to allow him any vision into the pitch black before him. The hunter closed his eyes, listening to his footsteps. Echolocation was something bats were good at, maybe the hunter could find some skill in the art as well?

After nearly tripping over a boulder, he decided against trying to echolocate, and continued feeling around in the emptiness that the pitch black provided for Dante. When he finally reached some sort of incline, he nearly tripped over his own feet, but he paused for a moment and composed himself. While he was no expert at finding directions based on sound, he could tell when he walked into a huge room as opposed to the tunnels he had been walking through.

He carefully descended further, before he saw a dark red light before him. It was in the shape of texts, written in the demonic tongue; the hunter could not understand what they said. However, he had a pretty good guess that whatever it was that the text depicted some sort of weapon that Mundus hid down here. He wasn't much of a power hungry nut, but he wouldn't turn his nose up at powerful weapons just laying around for the taking.

He reached out for the glowing red text, when the word "Stop" rang through his head in a deep, monstrous voice. He looked around, recognizing that voice from Limbo. He looked back at the text, realizing that it was on some sort of altar. Below it was some more text, this time it was in the human written language. Dante was about to read it when he looked up at what was behind the altar; a giant coffin-like structure. Upon it read the phrase, "He Who Comes Before The Fall".

The devil hunter stood back a bit, admiring the coffin. It was chained shut, heavy locks made of some form of demonic steel keeping the tomb bound. He folded his arms, wondering what exactly Mundus might have sealed up down here…then he looked around, and as he started to understand that he was in a coliseum, he also realized…the lights were on. He spun to face the altar, looking at the dark red text. Then he looked at the human text below it. "Sealed here is a great evil."

A great evil? Could Mundus have locked up a demon down here? Then he started thinking for a moment, remembering that his father, Sparda, was still alive. His mind drifted back to the day he reclaimed his memories at his old home; how he was a Nephilim, the son of an Angel and a Demon, an abomination of all creation. He remembered that his parent's love was one of the greatest affronts to creation imaginable, and for it, his mother was killed, and his father was imprisoned for all eternity.

That might be what Mundus considered a great evil. Dante took a step forward, smiling. Mundus was dead now, gone. He had no control over what the devil hunter would do, no hold over the demon Sparda any longer. He touched the altar, looking at the coffin as it began to pulse with dark energy. This was a foul sort of darkness, beyond anything even Mundus seemed to emit.

The hunter stood back as the chains grew deep red cracks. The locks began to shatter, and the coffin's lid flew off, Dante only just sidestepping the huge stone slab's trajectory. His coat swayed with the wind caused by the launching of the coffin lid, as did his hair. He looked over to the coffin, noting that there seemed to be nothing but darkness in it. His heart beat rapidly, not out of fear of what might come out, but out of some sort of hope. Hope that, maybe he had found his father, and maybe he would know how to defeat these demons, rid the world of them once and for all.

A claw reached forth from the coffin, followed by a second claw. Dante raised a brow, not recalling Sparda having any claws exactly, but kept an open mind as whatever was inside slowly came out. Maybe Sparda underwent some form of transformation, similar to the hunter's own ability? The hunter's breath became labored as the rest of the imprisoned creature crawled out.

It was like a grotesque oni that he now stared down. It gazed at him, and he felt somewhat insulted by its mask's smile. Like it was making fun of him. "Are you Sparda?" The hunter called out, though the demon did not respond verbally. It stared him down even still, standing easily at three times Dante's height. In truth, the hunter was starting to get pissed off by the lack of response from this demon. "I'm talking to you, you tall sack of shit!"

With that comment, the demon sent a balled up fist straight for Dante, who leaped to the side to avoid it. He landed on his shoulder and rolled back to his feet, but the tremor caused by the demon's hand impacting the ground caused the devil hunter to stumble slightly. The demon turned its head slowly to look at him, its mask hiding whatever anger it might have been feeling.

The hunter summoned his signature sword, Rebellion, to his back as he continued to look at the demon. "Alright, 'dad'…" he muttered as he grabbed the hilt of the weapon, "…looks like you want to play." He ran towards the demon, somersaulting beneath a sweeping attack of the demon's arm, and lunged blade-first into the demon's chest. The monster screamed in pain and stood up, pulling its fist from the ground, Dante clamped hard to his sword as the creature pulled Rebellion out of its chest.

It held Rebellion's blade between its forefinger and thumb, holding the hunter close to its face. The hunter took this opportunity to swing back, bringing his full weight into a kick straight to the demon's mask. While the face itself was shielded from the attack, the devil hunter knew that the sheer blunt force of his kick would at least stagger his opponent.

Reeling from the kick to the face, the demon let go of Rebellion's blade, sending Dante soaring through the air. Not skipping a beat, the hunter spun through the air, landing on his feet just in time to see the oni demon recover. He pulled out his pistol, Ebony, firing a few bullets at the demon. In retaliation, the oni spun and smashed the stadium where Dante stood, though the hunter had leapt atop its arm and ran along its thick, muscly flesh.

Once again he lunged blade-first into the creature, this time directly into the mask. Not only did the object add to his anger, but if this really was Sparda that he fought, the mask might have been some sort of control device Mundus had put upon him long ago.

The blade impacted with the mask with a thunderous metallic crack—the oni seemed to scream in pain while Dante continued pressing down on the mask with Rebellion, using the blade as a wedge against the crack his attack caused. The demon grasped and groped for him, however the hunter did a fine job of keeping a hold of his blade and evading capture.

A final groan came from the mask, before finally half of it broke off. With all the force Dante had been putting behind Rebellion, the piece flew across the room, faster than a bullet, and the hunter found himself launched in turn. He landed on his ass, quickly rolling to his feet to avoid any possible recourse that the oni might have tried. Instead, it grabbed at its own face, crying out in pain.

"Yeah yeah," Dante called out, shooting its exposed flesh twice with Ebony. "That hurt, I get it. Don't be a bitch about it." The demon shifted its gaze to him, its exposed eye a deep crimson. "Do I have your attention now, or are you gonna keep ignoring the question? Are you Sparda?" The oni seemed to scoff at the question. It raised a fist, but before it could do anything another bullet hit its exposed face. It recoiled, grabbing its face while Dante casually took a few steps forward. "Cause if you aren't, Mundus sealed away some pathetic demons."

The creature let out a guttural roar and charged at the devil hunter, who flinched and leaped over the monster. While he was in the air, he was grabbed by the creature's hand, where he immediately felt pain from the creature crushing him. Ebony and Rebellion fell to the ground uselessly, and Ivory was inaccessible to him now. He grabbed the finger and pulled on it, desperately trying to break the demon's grip.

The creature leaned in to stare at Dante. Its exposed flesh was covered in red cracks and mutated flesh; exactly what could be expected of a demon. Its eye was bloodshot, although what should have been white was a deep black, and its iris was the color of blood. Its mouth was sewn shut, and the hunter winced as it roared in his ear.

The demon was crushing him slowly and steadily; he felt his waist compact more and more as time went by, screaming pain filling his entire body. He would need his entire lower body amputated at this point, were he a normal human. He opened one eye to gaze directly into the oni's, raised a fist, and collided it with the monster's face as hard as he could.

The oni immediately let go, reeling in pain; if one thing could be said, it was that the devil hunter had one hell of a right hook. Dante landed on his feet though fell to the ground quickly, his bones still recovering from being ground to dust. He pushed himself up, feeling the bones regenerating and setting themselves within him. Grabbing Ebony off of the ground and pulling Ivory from her holster, Dante began firing a storm of lead in the direction of the oni, each bullet hitting its exposed flesh and exploiting the weak point to keep the demon off-balance.

Finally he holstered his pistols and grabbed Rebellion, charging forth at the oni and leaping at its face. He landed on the oni's chest, smashing his fist straight into the mask to cause the unsteady demon and sending it to the ground. "Alright, time to see who the ass under the mask is." The devil hunter muttered, violently slamming Rebellion between the mask and the demon's face, using it to pull the rest of the mask off.

The demon's face looked even more grotesque with the mask completely off—as though the thing were actually a part of the demon's face. The skin was destroyed and torn, and the eyes stared desperately at the demon hunter who looked at him with a look of disdain. "Well, if you are Sparda, then I guess you and Vergil have something in common. Wearing a mask to hide your ugly goddamn face."

The oni made a move to grab Dante, although the hunter gracefully avoided the attack this time, leaping upon the demon's crown and launching himself through the air to gain some distance. The demon turned to look at him, and let out a low chuckle; dark energy began pulsing from it once more, its mere movements were causing tremors. The wind blew fiercely from the oni, as though it were the center of a gale.

The unmasked oni looked Dante straight in the eyes, and laughed a deep, unnerving laugh. "The fuck are you laughing at?" The hunter pulled out Ebony and began shooting the demon in the face, although the bullets were repelled by the fierce winds around the demon, and wound up flying around it and back to Dante, who sidestepped the bullets gracefully. The demon continued laughing at Dante. "I said, what the fuck are you laughing at?!" Holstering Ebony and drawing Rebellion, he flew at the oni who merely swatted him aside.

He landed hard on his side, and heard Rebellion slide across the floor alongside him. He rolled back and grabbed his blade, ending up on his feet before he could be taken advantage of. The oni faced him, chuckling at the hunter. Dante frowned as he looked at it, his knuckles whitening around Rebellion's hilt. Had he made the demon more powerful by removing its mask? Perhaps this was why Mundus sealed it up. "Okay, fucker…" he muttered and pointed his sword at the oni demon, "…last chance. Are you Sparda?"

The oni lunged once more at the hunter, who leaped to the side. His evasion tactic did not work as well as he'd hoped, and his leg was grabbed by the demon's powerful arm. Rebellion flew from his hands in his shock at being grabbed, and he was held close to the oni's unmasked face once more. Dante pulled his fist back and planted an upside down haymaker straight to the oni's nose, however this attack did not send the demon reeling. Rather, Dante's fist got stuck inside the demon's nose, while the demon continued to chuckle. He grabbed his arm and started trying to pull it free of the demon's nose, with no luck.

The dark waves of energy continued to pulse forth from the demon who held him, its chuckling filled his ears as he continued in vain to pull his hand free. "Let…me…go!" He released his arm and grabbed Ebony, shooting two bullets into the monster's head before it finally released him, throwing him across the room. By chance he landed beside Rebellion, looking up as the oni turned around, a thick black smoke enveloping it.

Dante stood up, grabbing Rebellion off of the ground and pointing Ebony at the smoke. He gritted his teeth as the smoke began to clear at last, a demon quite unlike the oni stepping out from it. It laughed in a dark, smooth voice, and it wore many cloaks. "I admit, I am quite surprised that Mundus has seen fit to allow people down here. To see…me." It said.

"So you can talk now? That's great." Dante stepped forward angrily, keeping his gun pointed forward.

"And you never seem to stop." The being replied, and laughed. "I was wondering what a human was doing in these catacombs, and to my surprise manages to take me on in straight combat. Albeit, in my sealed form."

"The mask."

"Not as stupid as you look."

"And you're every bit as much of a dick as you look."

"Put down the gun, fool." The being stated, though Dante did not comply.

"I take it you aren't Sparda."

"Sparda, Sparda, Sparda. Is he all you talk about when you aren't trying to be funny?"

"No, sometimes I whisper sweet nothings into the ears of ugly fucking demons like yours." He fired a bullet which the demon easily avoided. "My name is Dante."

"Dante…? _The_ Dante?" The demon asked, to which Dante raised an eyebrow. "The fact you are standing after taking an attack from me answers that question. So that explains why you keep asking about the damned traitor, Sparda. Well he isn't here, nor does he exist on this plane." There was a hint of anger in his voice.

"So who the fuck are you?"

"Me? I am just a 'humble servant of Mundus'. Leader of his elite team." Dante chuckled.

"Your boss is dead."

"Oh?"

"I killed him, and now, I'm going to kill you."

"So confident, and yet, I can't believe even Sparda would be capable of defeating our glorious leader," there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "let alone some mixed-blood whelp that cur called a son."

"Were you always this much of an asshole? Is that why Mundus had you locked up in here?" The demon chuckled.

"No, he had me locked in here because I was more powerful than him."

"More powerful than Mundus?" Dante laughed.

"You claim to be."

"Cause I killed him."

"And I am clearly overpowering you. Get the picture?"

"Overpowering me?" Dante scoffed at the absurd statement, however he felt another malevolent pulse of energy around him, before being thrust backwards onto his ass. He scrambled back to his feet, looking at the demon.

"I am the personification of one of the Seven Cardinal Sins. No mere demon." He chuckled at the devil hunter who even now struggled to keep fighting. "Some know me as the worst of the Sins, the one that leads the rest. I am the personification of Pride." He walked toward Dante, who raised Ebony and began firing bullet after bullet at the demon who calmly walked toward him. "And there is such pride coming from you, Son of Sparda."

"Fuck you." Dante started backing up, firing his gun. However, Pride moved faster than Dante, and before long, they were within a foot of each other. Dante moved to leap backward, but a wave of malevolent energy surged from the demon, forcing the hunter to remain where he was. The Sin's fist was then rammed straight through his heart. The hunter let out a scream of pain, and heard Pride whispering in his ear as he began to pass out.

"You are weak, Son of Sparda, but you hold much power within you. When you decide to use that power, you and I might be on the same level." Dante's vision began to fade as he gasped for air, his heart desperately beating in Pride's closed hand. "Until then, know that I am not the only horror you've awakened with that nephilim blood of yours. The Seven Sins will be hunting you, and all humanity, until demons reign supreme once more. You have my word."

With that, he released Dante's heard and tossed him backwards with such force that he broke through the wall he collided with. The hunter's eyes closed and his vision faded, hearing nothing but Pride's laughter as he fell unconscious at last.


	4. Mission Three: Hunting the Devil

As of 12:29 AM, on March 4, 2013, this story hit "666" views. Normally a very hated number, but in context of a story about killing demons that is pretty damn cool!  
To celebrate, I have commissioned two artworks that will hopefully be done soon-one for passing 333, the Holy Number, and one for passing 666, the unholy number, and post them up for you to enjoy/download :D

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Anger, that was all the demon felt as it thrust its blade through the small, silver-haired man, blood spattering out behind him. The wind howled around the scene as he gasped out in pain, the demon forcing him backwards in an enraged stride, life still oozing from his wound. As the demon looked at its prey, now powerless before it as he dropped his sword, a sense of accomplishment could be felt. However that sentiment was like a small piece of driftwood amid a stormy sea of agony and rage.

The man knew not what he had done wrong, and to be honest, neither did the demon. All the creature knew as it buried its blade further into the pitiful being's chest, was that he had done wrong. That he had committed an act that was against it. An act of treason, a desire to rule that led the mortal in the demon's clutches to his downfall.

The man uselessly grabbed the blade of the demon's sword, desperately fighting its strength. It did not change that the demon was vastly more powerful than him, and it did not change that he was going to die. He fell to the ground under the might of the demon, who continued burying the blade into his chest, screaming in pain. The demon merely laughed at this display.

The man continued to struggle under the demon's hold, as though he still had some hope for survival remaining. This confused the creature which twisted the blade, eliciting another cry of agony from him. The monster hung over its prey, gazing at its eyes, closed in despair. This thing had done it wrong, it had to remember this. The pure rage drove it to raise a fist, slamming it straight into the man's cheek. He felt the bone shatter under his knuckles, and blood splashing forth from the wound.

The man opened his eyes and looked straight at the demon, a pleading expression. Like a murderer pleading his fellow man not to kill him for his transgressions. Another fist was sent into the man's face, and another wound in his face was opened. The demon roared at him, though he continued to struggle. What gave this being hope to keep fighting on? Why not simply give in?

"Dante, stop!" The demon looked deep into its foe's eyes for the first time upon hearing the woman's voice, seeing what it really was in their reflection. His hair was an eerie white, and his eyes took on a hue that made blood look dull. His face was covered in red cracks, and his coat was a bright red. He gritted his teeth and looked at what he had become, what he was. "Don't kill him…please."

His expression softened in the reflection, as the winds calmed down, the nephilim recognizing Kat's fearful voice. It was then that the nephilim noticed that the wind's raw fury was a direct result of his own power, and it was now that he realized he had his blade lodged directly into the heart of his twin brother. He almost let out a cry of despair at this; he had let his demonic powers control him.

He pulled the sword out of his brother as the world began to fade away. Dante looked around, and as the world faded away, he heard his own voice, shaking him to his very core: "I don't know what I am anymore…"

The hunter awoke in a cold sweat, looking around at where he was. There was sunlight, though it was dim. The sky was filled with dark clouds, casting a shadow across the city he found himself in. Had he really found any catacombs, fought any demons?

Dante looked around again, noticing that he was surrounded by vehicles, and found himself in the back of a truck. He sat up, feeling sore in his chest. Looking down, he saw that his shirt was absolutely ruined, a gaping, bloodied hole right where his heart is. He didn't so much care for the shirt, which was already in a dilapidated state, as he cared for what it implied. He encountered something.

His coat was intact though, he had to be grateful for that. Stretching his arms into the air, he felt his muscles all along his back relax, before he pulled himself out of the truck. He landed on his feet, raising a small amount of dust. Standing to full height, he looked around at all the vehicles, and began to wonder why exactly he'd been spared. He was not able to give the thought much attention, however, as he heard a voice. Immediately he reached for Ebony and Ivory, but found their holsters empty.

"Well lookie here. Bigshot rookie woke up." The hunter turned to face a human, who was garbed in a longcoat, wearing jeans and a t-shirt underneath. Though that was the least surprising part, Dante soon noticed, as he gazed upon the various weapons the man kept on him. A sniper rifle was strapped to his back, and he had two submachine guns attached to his hips. In his hands was an assault rifle, and in his boots were two desert eagles. He wore a helmet over his head, and sunglasses to cover his eyes.

"Where are my guns?" Was Dante's first question to the man. Though armed to the teeth, the nephilim knew that he posed no true threat, even if he was malevolent. The man cracked his neck.

"Those baby things won't do you any good against the demons out here." His comment made Dante clench his fists in anger.

"You'd be surprised what my babies can do. Where are they?" Ebony and Ivory were guns that Dante had had practically his entire life, and carried him through his whole adventure with the Order. At this point, they were every bit as attached to his soul as Rebellion was.

Avoiding the question, the man turned and looked in the direction of Limbo City, which as Dante realized, was actually some distance away. "We found you just outside the forbidden zone." He turned his glance back to the devil hunter, who merely folded his arms in annoyance. "What was a halfway armed novice shit like you doing there?"

"What is a pathetic little fuck like you doing keeping my guns away from me?" Dante's brow furrowed as he began stomping towards the man, but stopped.

"Jeremy, is this guy giving you trouble?" Dante turned to face two burly men, similarly armed as the man he was conversing with.

"No, Sean. He's fine. Freaking out about those two baby pistols we dropped in the ruins." Dante nearly overturned the car he stood beside when he heard this. This caused the three people that surrounded him to take him a little bit more seriously. "Listen, kid. You want your guns? Let's go get them."

It was here that Sean and his similarly-built friend pulled Jeremy to the side. Though they thought themselves being sneaky. While Dante couldn't hear every word they were saying, he gathered enough to learn two things: first, they were ultimately against helping him get his guns back, but Jeremy wanted to see what all Dante was capable of. Second, that he wasn't the only professional devil hunter in the group; Jeremy and company were all trained mercenaries.

"Alright kid, hop in." Jeremy said, pulling open the door of his pickup truck, which was a faded blue color and coated with rust. Doing as instructed, the son of Sparda climbed into the vehicle, sitting on its dusty and destroyed upholstery. He slammed the door shut, and saw his reflection in the mirror. He ran a hand through his fading-black hair, taking note of his blue eyes, remembering his dream.

The other door slammed shut behind him, and he heard the roar of the engine as the vehicle started up. Outside, he saw Sean and his lookalike start their motorcycles, and toyed with the idea of stealing one for himself. It would make getting around the Limbo City ruins far easier, at least, and he would be able to get to the settlement he'd been tasked to find much faster.

"I've never seen you around these parts, kid." Jeremy said as the vehicle started moving forward, quickly picking up speed. Dante leaned against the window apathetically. "I'd like to think I'm pretty savvy on all the devil hunters in the region. Even wannabes like yourself. Where have you been hiding?"

"A settlement deep inside Limbo City. Called New Limbo. Heard of that?" Dante's response had a sting to it, but Jeremy laughed anyway.

"Son, you must be delirious. Nobody lives anywhere near Limbo City. That place is infested with some incredible demons." Dante rolled his eyes. So the outside world feared Limbo City as much as the denizens of New Limbo did. He couldn't say that he was entirely surprised; he'd slain some demons the likes of which he hadn't seen since Mundus' elite guard in those ruins—demons that fought like warriors, and were much more capable than the mindless fodder that seemed to pervade everything else.

"You'd be surprised." Dante's muttering was the only response he would come up with for now. It was useless to become indignant about what the humans considered true and false; he knew the truth, and soon, the whole world would. New Limbo existed, and soon they would be free from the torment of their iron cage. He watched the motorcycle that rode beside the truck; they rode in a formation that involved the bikes riding on either side of the truck.

It was when the vehicles stopped that Dante looked around, slightly confused. Jeremy hopped out of the vehicle and crouched low, Dante followed suit. He looked at the devil hunter with the assault rifle, pointing the nose of the gun around like it was a dog, sniffing out demons. Though the son of Sparda did not have any demon-sensing abilities, he was smart enough to know that demons had taken notice of this small band of people.

There was a howl and Dante looked up, seeing a demon the likes he hadn't in a long time. Back when he ran with The Order, they were labeled "Rage". A large ratlike monster that could tear a man to shreds in a matter of moments, and it was always angry. It was also very vengeful—felling any of its allies in combat made it into a nigh unstoppable beast of wrath.

Before he could draw Rebellion, the devil hunters had taken positions around the demon without his noticing. He heard a harsh whisper from Jeremy. "We take this thing as a team, or it could kill us all. We call 'em 'Rage' demons." Dante rolled his eyes, and stuck with Jeremy for the time being, though he knew he could take the rodent on his own.

The three devil hunters and Dante circled around the beast which still smelled for their scent. Although at first he was confused as to what they were doing, circling around it and not attacking, it quickly became evident that they were mixing their scents to confuse the beast which tried to track them, which would make an ambush easier.

As they prowled around the Rage, however, the son of Sparda couldn't help but think of how inefficient this hunt actually was. He understood that, as frail as humans were, they needed to be cautious, but were more Rages to appear while they stalked it, things would become quite troublesome, quite quickly. He gazed upon the gigantic rat that remained upon the street, its nose to the pavement. Dante gritted his teeth, looking across and seeing Sean's lookalike signaling to Jeremy, who crouched beside him. This demon would find them if they weren't careful.

Then he saw Sean stumble, and his eyes shot wide open. That's it, this wasn't working, he thought as he charged out to catch Sean. Before he could do much of anything, however, there was a cry of anger from the Rage, which had spotted Dante easily. Before he could do much to protect himself, he found himself tackled to the ground, claws dug deep into his arms pinning him. He let out a cry in pain as he heard much swearing from the devil hunters who opened fire on the Rage.

Dante continued to struggle underneath the creature, feeling claws pushing deeper and deeper into his arms. The Rage screamed in his face and moved to bite him, but before it could there was a loud bang and the creature was stunned. He looked up to see Sean with a shotgun, and smirked before taking his opportunity and grunting as he moved his entire lower body underneath the Rage. With great effort, he managed to push the Rage off of him, at least enough to roll over and take the advantage.

Having pinned the Rage beneath him, the devil hunters congregated and focused concentrated fire on the poor demon's face while the son of Sparda held it there. It thrashed and screamed as bullet after bullet flew into its face, demonic blood splattering from each impact with its flesh, but Dante held it there until it finally stopped squirming, and died. The devil hunters took their time reloading, but before Dante could relax himself he was decked in the face and sent sprawling to the ground.

"What the fuck was that?" Jeremy yelled, looking at Dante below him. "You almost got us all killed. We shouldn't have taken a rookie like you along!"

"Your friend slipped, I was going to help him!" At his words, Sean raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't falling, or in any danger kid. What you did was borderline suicidal, though, running out in front of a Rage."

"You want your guns, kid? Fine! We'll get them. But stay out of our way if we run into any more demons. Got that?" Jeremy stared right into Dante's eyes, and Dante returned the gesture. "Novice piece of shit."

"Fuck you too, asshole." Dante said, cracking his neck and turning away. "You wouldn't even have me here if you didn't take my goddamn guns."

Sean and his lookalike, Jason as Dante heard through their discourse, seemed worried at this point. They found Dante near a pit, probably the one that he created when he fell into the catacombs. Though they were not too far off from the location, the son of Sparda needed to keep them around for now, as they knew where his guns were truly left. He shook his head; out in the badlands or not, theft of property just to leave it out like that sickened him.

He got back in the faded-blue truck and slammed the door shut, folding his arms. Even though the technique was overdone and took too long to execute, he supposed that there were a few things he could pick up from these guys. For instance, he had not known that Rages saw primarily through their sense of smell before this, but now he could think of ways to disrupt Rage's attacks and destroy them more easily.

The environment finally became a bit more familiar as they approached the Limbo City limits. Dante opened the door and stepped out of the truck, hitting the ground with a soft _thud. _"Your guns are over there, past the barrier." Jeremy's voice was now something that annoyed Dante easily, although he followed his outstretched pointed finger, and saw his babies sitting just beyond the sign.

"You threw them back into the city." Dante remarked snidely as he strode to the limits, looking at Sean and Jason who both seemed anxious at what he was about to do. Limbo City was a place like any other, he did not understand what the devil hunters decided they had to fear from it. The population of demons might have been too much for their methods to work very well, but he was sure a trained devil hunter knew how to face adversity.

He took a step back into the city, shaking his head at the notion. He had left the city from underground, and now found himself back inside it to pick up Ebony and Ivory. He grabbed the guns, but as he did he heard a roar. A familiar one that made his spine shiver. "Get your ass back here, kid! Hurry!" he heard Jeremy and took a few slow steps back. He then felt a tremor and looked up, seeing a grotesque monster hanging onto the building.

Dante's knuckles whitened over Ebony and Ivory's grips, realizing that the massive demon that hung before him was a Hunter Demon, a member of the species of creature that had initially involved Dante in the business of fighting Mundus. A being that had considered Dante's death its goal; something that meant there was a challenge nearby.

The Hunter descended, smashing into the road and damn near breaking it to pull them all into the catacombs beneath. Its breath smelled of rotted blood, and the weakness in the creature's armor was closed. He held up Ebony and Ivory and began firing, though the bullets bounced uselessly off the Hunter who prepared to swipe at him.

Before it could, however, there was an explosion that threw the son of Sparda to the ground and sent the Hunter reeling in pain. Jeremy and Jason were now beside Dante, pulling him away while providing support fire with their submachine guns. He shook his head and planted his feet on the ground. "Look kid, this is why I said no getting involved with fighting demons with us, this is why I said get back in the goddamned truck!"

"And this is why you shut the fuck up and help me fight. That is a Hunter Demon, those things are far superior to the Rage we fought earlier." He looked to Jeremy, who seemed surprised at Dante's sudden expertise in demonology.

"That is why we run!" Jeremy shouted when the Hunter regained its footing. Dante twirled Ebony and Ivory in his hands and aimed them at it.

"This is why we _can't_ run!" Dante began firing upon the Hunter who faced them. It pulled out a gargantuan knife, coated in rusted blood and ready to crush the four of them easily. "Do you have anything that can weaken this thing?"

"Demon repellant? Are you mad?" Jeremy inquired, his eyes going wide. "O…of course we do." He ran to the truck and pulled out what looked like a Molotov cocktail. Dante smirked, remembering his first fight with a Hunter Demon; Kat had used something that looked exactly like the cocktail. Hopefully, however, it would work as efficiently as Kat's variant.

Jeremy lobbed the cocktail just as the Hunter swiped at them, Sean and Jason leaping to the ground to evade the attack and Dante relying on the cocktail's effectiveness to protect him from getting hit. He closed his eyes and readied himself to be skewered, though instead he heard the demon call out in pain and stagger backwards.

The son of Sparda opened his eyes, and saw that the weakspot was still sealed up. He swore and looked around for anything else that could work; obviously whatever these devil hunters used in their demon repellant wasn't as effective as Kat's, but it had to do. The Hunter was in pain and that could be an advantage. Then he looked at the hole from before, which led deep into the city's catacombs.

"We're royally fucked now, kid!" Jeremy called out, though Dante began pelting the Hunter with Ebony and Ivory's bullets once more, and though the bullets fell uselessly from its thick hide, it seemed to annoy the creature. Make it focus solely on him, and he could lead it into his trap. It lunged at him with its knife out, though the son of Sparda somersaulted beneath the demon, spinning and continuing his assault of bullets.

As expected, the demon turned once more and attacked again, this time Dante jumped high and ran along its spine, firing again and again into it before he landed behind the creature. He looked up to see Jason and Sean being directed by Jeremy with a rocket launcher. His eyes opened wide as he realized that they had caught on to his plan. He spun and kicked the Hunter's ass before rolling away, hearing the sound of the rocket being launched.

The explosion sent Dante even further than he had already gone, and the Hunter, now completely off-balance, stood at the edge of the hole. Not wanting to take a chance, the son of Sparda aimed Ebony and Ivory one last time at the demon, and focused his demonic powers into the bullets. The guns seemed to glow with his strength flowing through them, though at distance this would not look like much. He fired the bullets, turning their piercing energy into simple collisions, so that the demon would be pushed forward.

His little trick made the demon cry out in pain as it fell into the hole. Dante blew some smoke off of the barrels of his babies, and smiled. "Ebony, Ivory, I missed you girls." Finally, he holstered them, before he strode over to Jeremy and company. "Not such pieces of shit now, are they?" He sounded smug as he opened the door to the truck.

"What kind of guns are those?" Jeremy's question could only make Dante smile happily that he had, somehow, someway, confused the devil hunter.

".45 auto."

"Bullshit. Why didn't you reload _once_ during that whole attack?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Ebony and Ivory are my pistols. They don't need conventional ammunition." He pulled out Ebony, running his finger along its barrel. "These girls don't need to be reloaded." In truth, it was his own demonic power he fired from the guns, which took on the form of bullets. That was how he was able to charge his final attack to send the Hunter flying.

"What the fuck are you?"

"My name is Dante." This seemed to hold no meaning for them. "A devil hunter, like you. I operate alone, mostly, so my tools of the trade need to be stronger." He holstered Ebony and pointed away from the city. "You guys seemed so eager to leave earlier. Let's go."

"Hold it." Jason said, opening the door of the truck. "We ain't going anywhere until you tell us where you got those."

"What, so I can share? No deal." He hopped out of the truck, walking towards the bikes.

"You have a bloodied hole in your shirt, but no wound. You were tackled by a Rage and viciously clawed at, but have no visible wounds. You were leaps and bounds above the Hunter when it came to the fight, and yet you look human." Jeremy observed as Dante grabbed Sean's motorcycle. "You're a demon, aren't you?"

"Close." Dante said, revving the bike. Then the devil hunters realized exactly what he was doing. "But the term is 'devilishly handsome'!" With that, he rode off, away from the hunters. He assumed they would pursue him, and they probably had a good idea of where he rode. The scenery flew by as the son of Sparda took no caution; there was nobody else on the road, and fuck any demons that showed up. That was the difference between himself and the devil hunters.

They were human, frail and weak. He was nephilim, and while he could be broken, he would not stay that way long enough for the fact to mean anything significant. He smirked as the wind whipped at his hair; they were impressive humans indeed, to fight demons for a living.

Within hours, the walls of a settlement came into view. More than a settlement though; it was not an iron sphere like New Limbo was. It looked like a genuine city. The motor started to quiet itself as he came to a stop before the gates, though it still purred as he remained immobile with it. "Hey, open up!" He called out, waving, "I need to talk to you!"

It was then that an alarm sounded, and Dante flinched at its sound piercing his ears, and looks at the gates as two metallic creatures descended from the top of the walls. Confused at first, Dante dismounted the bike and walked towards them, arms outstretched as if he were declaring himself not hostile. However, these machines did not seem to get the point, as Dante found out when he met the floor in a scrambled mess after the bot punched him.

"Some way to greet a newcomer…" Dante muttered as he stood up, wiping blood from his face. "Do you act like assholes to all of your guests, or am I just special?"

The robots did not answer, and instead kept up their assault. They fought akin to a demon, however much more methodically so. Whereas a demon like a Rage was deadly if you got caught, if you were smart and quick on your feet that could be avoided. These machines ended up leading Dante into a wall, where he was almost made into a fine paste by the thing's fists.

Ducking under the attack, Dante rolled to get some distance between himself and his two new adversaries. Maybe it would have been better if he had just stayed in New Limbo, he thought to himself, but quickly dismissed the idea. He spun and kicked one in the chest plate, sending it back some ways, ducking under another fist attack from the robot and sending a mean upward fist into the thing's gut. Against a human or a demon, that would have left them stunned. In this instance, the devil hunter merely broke his hand by hitting the thing in the chest.

He massaged his hand as the bones quickly mended themselves, ducking under another attack from the creature and kicking upward, right into its face. If you could call it a face; these things were shaped like bulky humanoids, and were awkward to fight. Dante backpedalled a few attacks, drawing Ebony and Ivory and firing several rounds into the bot's face, though the bullets pathetically bounced off of its thick hide. "Okay…don't care about the ladies. I get the kind of guys you are…" Dante muttered, holstering the guns and moving to grab Rebellion.

Before he could, however, he was grabbed by the neck and pulled back. He felt the cold steel against his neck, and let out a gasp as his ribs were smashed in his chest by the robot in front of him. Coughing up blood, he looked defiantly at the thing as it reared up for a second punch. His ribs already mending, he let out a grunt and kicked himself over the bot holding him, listening to the crunch of metal as the fist collided with its ally.

The hold that the first robot had on him was not released, however. This was a fact that annoyed Dante, as usually pain and severe injuries caused his foes to stop attacking him for a few moments so he could take a step back and analyze the situation. He pulled uselessly at the metal hand which held his throat, before being tossed aside by the robot. He landed hard on the ground, before standing back up and looking at the bots separate themselves.

What Dante saw inside of the damaged bot was something that horrified him beyond any demon he'd ever seen before. At least with the demons he already knew they were monsters, creatures that desired nothing more than power and the suffering of others. What he saw was a human. Humans were attacking him?

Before he could ask any other questions, a grappling hook whizzed by, and having narrowly avoided the attack, Dante reached back and drew forth his blade, Rebellion. However, the grappling hook was boomerang-esque, and ended up hitting the hunter from behind, pulling him towards the bot with great speed. He lifted his legs and braced for impact against the steel, though the bot seemed quite capable of handling its own power. He struggled in the rope, before looking up and seeing the grotesque, deformed face of the human.

Then, he realized with horror, it was not a living human. It was a dead one that operated this thing somehow, someway. "What the fuck are you?!" the hunter asked with shock in his voice, but was answered by receiving a punch to the gut, winding him. The bot then dropped him to the ground and lifted its foot. Coughing up blood, he rolled free of the robot's foot, standing to his full height. "Like hell I'll be killed by something like you."

The robots pointed at him, and their arms seemed to open up revealing several high caliber machine guns in both arms of both bots. Shocked, Dante stood back a bit, grabbing Rebellion from the ground, but he hardened his resolve. These things weren't demons, nor were they angels or humans. They were something else…something far worse by comparison.

He held Rebellion forth as the bullets started flying at him, and flew at the robots. He focused on his own ability; it was all that could protect him at this point. With a yell, the winds began to howl and his hair flushed white. The bots seemed to slow down, and their gunfire came to a near halt. Adrenaline pumped through the hunter's system as he came to terms with this action.

He danced between the bullets that flew in swarms toward him, closing the distance between his intended targets and himself. In his eyes it was as though the bullets were nearly at a standstill as he weaved his way gracefully between each bullet in the storm of lead. To the poor foes he faced, he seemed to move at the pace of a beam of light; not a single bullet hit its mark, and before they could register that Dante had even moved, one ended up with a blade in its steely shell.

"Dante, stop!" He heard in his head. Before his eyes he saw his twin suffering beneath his blade once more. He felt the anger that came with this power, the raw, uncontrollable fury. His body began to shake as the winds ceased to howl, and his perception of time returned to normal. He stood up, leaving Rebellion lodged in the exoskeleton of the corpse, and looked at his hands which were shaking. He looked back to the robot, before receiving another punch to the gut from the other bot.

Sent to the floor, Dante lost his breath. His vision went fuzzy once more, and the bot stood above him, raising its foot. The hunter reached his hand out in a pleading gesture for some modicum of mercy. Though the bot at first seemed to refuse to grant it, it stepped down. The devil hunter pushed himself up to his knees, and found himself looking up at the devil hunting trio he'd stolen the bike from.

"Deus ex machina…" Dante muttered as he stood up and looked at Jeremy. "Wouldn't have expected it from you guys."

"You're a demon, that's why they attacked." Jeremy's ignorance of Dante's immature quip honestly surprised him at first.

"So why'd you save me?"

"I never would have believed that a demon would fight other demons. At least, not in defense of humans." He paced before the son of Sparda. "But here you are. So that means there may actually be a settlement in Limbo City."

"And?"

"We'll help you get into Angelo City." Jeremy gestured towards the walls. "So you can get a team together to help evacuate the people of Limbo City." Dante folded his arms and looked at the trio.

"So, why all of a sudden are you helping me? I'm a demon," his eyes fell on Jason, "I stole your bike," his gaze shifted to Sean, "and you didn't seem all that cooperative before."

"I won't lie, Dante. I find you fascinating. A demon that fights alongside humans." He turned around and got in his faded blue truck. "I'm willing to tag along, and see how long this lasts. Your demon side will get the better of you someday, and we need to be ready for the inevitable knife in the back." Dante looked at the sword in his hand. Jeremy was not wrong in his reasoning; more than being a blade connected to his very being, it was also a representation of his power.

And thus, a representation of the devil within him, which threatened to take him over.


	5. Mission Four: The Devil's Dozen

The commission I ordered for hitting 666 views is still in the works, sorry guys ^^ On the bright side, now DnC is at 1,000+ views, so we are doing amazing! :D

Anyway, I am posting this early because I have testing tomorrow and staying up till midnight would not be beneficial to passing.

As always, feel free to let me know if you liked it! Favorite if you think this is worth it, and be sure to leave feedback so I can make this story the best I possibly can.

I love y'all, stay awesome!

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Dante followed Jeremy and his team to the gates of the city, shifting the body of the robotic corpse he had taken down not long ago. He gazed into its dead eyes, unchanging even when he fought it. He shivered, wondering who had come up with such a project as these corpse robots. His attention returned to the gate, however, when the devil hunters applied some sort of badge to the side, which opened the doors to the city.

"Welcome to Angelo City." Jeremy said, gesturing to Dante to enter. Sean and Jason had already accepted the invitation and started walking away from the two who remained at the precipice between humanity and the demon's playground. The son of Sparda looked nervously around, seeing the robot pick itself up. It moved around as though it had taken no damage. He then looked at the gravel streets that decorated the city's ground.

"What the fuck are those things?" Dante asked, not budging from his current position. Jeremy looked around, clearly confused. "The corpsebots. What the fuck are they?" Jeremy looked at the robots which once more patrolled the city.

"They're called Vitruvians. They make sure demons don't get through." He tapped Dante's shoulder, who shifted away violently, the disgust at the thought of using human corpses as weapons evident in his expression. "They did a number on you, looks like."

"Those corpses are fresh." Dante ignored Jeremy's jape, scowling. Jeremy rolled his eyes and gestured again to enter the city.

"And now the chassis is damaged on that one. Point is, they keep us safe from demons."

"That's _your_ job, as a devil hunter." These people had killed others in order to protect themselves. At least New Limbo's metallic dome did not sacrifice people. "Not innocents."

"Relax, Dante." The man said, raising his arms in surrender. "They were given to us. We had no hand in any murder you think we committed." He turned and walked away from the gate, into the city. "I am in no mood for ethical games." Dante shook his head and looked back at the Vitruvians which even now patrolled the area. Powerful? Yes. Capable of holding back some impressive demons? Definitely.

He turned away and walked into the city himself, shaking his head and muttering. Humans had descended to a level he did not think that they would in order to protect themselves. There are no words to describe the grimace that painted his face, that expression of hatred for his own actions that brought about demonic apocalypse just two years ago.

He looked around the city, noticing the people lived their lives with relative normalcy. He exhaled and turned to see Jeremy staring him right in the eyes. "Finally decided to come inside, eh?" Dante rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Rather be in here than with your fucking corpsebots outside."

"You're just mad because they kicked your ass." Jeremy did not seem to get why Dante hated these things so much, but the subject was quickly changed nonetheless. "Our Demon Hunting Guild has a bar just around the corner, called 'The Devil's Dozen'. I think you should be acquainted with some people." Dante shook his head and turned away.

"More corpsebots? I'll pass." He started walking away from Jeremy, who quickly protested the decision.

"We're all human in there, kid." The protest did no good, however, the son of Sparda was already a ways away from the hunter. Jeremy shrugged and walked towards the Devil's Dozen, expecting Dante to follow suit soon enough.

Dante's coat swayed behind him as he walked through the large city. The sky was a darkened color, otherwise he could have sworn that the demonic apocalypse had never happened. The people here acted like the demons never existed, in fact; they seemed to wish to shut out the thought that Mundus ever existed.

"…the representatives of 'The New Order' have begun their campaign to unite the world at large." Dante's ears perked up when he heard the word 'Order', his mind jumping back two years, when he worked alongside Vergil and fought against the Demon King, Mundus. He looked at the screen, scowling at the anchorman. He looked too much like the demonic anchorman he had fought during that campaign; had the same snarky tone too. "Four Vitruvian Mechanical Units have been deployed to each of several cities around the Mediterranean Sea, supporting the peace and safety of the people there."

Dante's knuckles whitened as he stared at the screen. He was heavily considering loading a few bullets into it, but he stopped himself. The people had no choice in the matter, but they were now dead. There was no point getting up in arms about good intentions being mixed with bad means. Then again, had he not allowed that kind of thinking, he'd have never fought with Vergil.

His attention turned to the city itself as he walked away from the news screen. It was not a big city by any means; the scenery was in stark contrast with Limbo City. Rather than skyscrapers for apartments and streets that sprawled for miles on end, the buildings here rarely surpassed three stories in height, and the roads were simplified. This was a fact that the son of Sparda was pleased about; he could get around without having to rely on Jeremy for aid.

Soon he found building that, while not towering above the others, surely was much more elegantly crafted. The pillars were constructed of a fine polished marble, much like the stairs. The windows were stained-glass, in fact, this seemed more like a church than anything else. He stopped before the marble stairs, gazing at the smooth texture of them, and found himself wondering what exactly he had stumbled into.

Dante shook his head and stepped forth into the building, opening the huge oak door with little effort. There were several people, all garbed in black business suits that scrambled about. In his casual attire, the devil hunter stuck out like a sore thumb. It was not that he minded this at all; he enjoyed his coat and his undershirt. It was a simple, comfortable style that fit him and what he did; fighting demons.

A woman, about one head's height beneath Dante, walked up to the hunter and looked at him. She had midnight black hair and wore red spectacles. "You're new in town. Devil Hunter from across the Mediterranean?" Though formed as a question, her tone specified it more as a demand for information.

"No, resident from New Limbo." This answer caught the woman off-guard, which made sense. Dante had always figured the world knew about New Limbo, but just could not access it due to fear. Now he knew that nobody even had a concept of the stronghold's existence, which brought a pang of sadness through him. His mind jumped back to his one-man war against the demons that fateful day in Limbo City.

"New Limbo?" The woman's composure had returned and she raised an eyebrow at the hunter. "There is no such place."

"Actually, that's why I'm here. We are trying to connect with the world." Dante was no sort of formal messenger, but for the people of New Limbo he'd do his damnedest. The woman let out a breath and turned around, walking away from him. "Wait! I need to speak to your leader!" His own pace picked up to match hers, but she continued to face away from him. "New Limbo is real, I swear!"

"The men of the 'Devil's Dozen' have already scouted along Limbo City's borders, sir." The woman finally replied, with a cold anger in her words. "Everybody in that cursed city was killed a year ago, when the final helicopter left." The devil hunter remembered what had happened that day. How he'd made as many people get to the damn chopper as he could. And he failed; just as Vergil had predicted he would.

"I tried my best that day." Dante muttered apologetically, though he knew not to whom. Who could he apologize to for dooming a whole village of people? For dooming Kat? The woman's ears perked up at that comment.

"Your best? You weren't there. I'd remember you." The woman took off her spectacles and squinted at him. Dante merely chuckled.

"I may have changed my look once or twice." He gestured to the jacket he wore. "But some things are just iconic. You don't recognize my coat?" The woman looked at it, and sat back in the chair.

"Please, stop. Leave this place, sir." She pointed back the way Dante had come. "I won't have any more of your insanity in my halls."

"Ira, wait!" Dante spun to see Jeremy had followed him. "I'll vouch for him."

"Do you know what he claims, Sir Jeremy?" Ira replaced her spectacles at the sight of the devil hunters. "That there are survivors of the Battle of Limbo." It had a name. Cute.

"I know. And I believe him." Jeremy patted Dante's shoulder hard. "We found him unconscious along the Limbo border, however the way this kid moves…he may just have come from the inside. If there are people there, he is the guy to help get 'em out."

"And he would be…?" Ira asked. Dante opened his mouth, but Jeremy's words came first.

"His name is Dante."

"Sir Dante, I can not, and will not, guarantee any resources for this expedition of yours." Ira opened the door to her office, which revealed a neatly organized room with a couch sitting before a shelf full of several tomes. A desk sat before a window, where some form of sunlight shown through; it was clear that the clouds were still up in the sky. "Your best bet would be to secure the proprietor of the Devil's Dozen's aid."

"Ira," Jeremy said, folding his arms, "He'd never convince her."

"So you expect him to convince me." The woman sat at her desk, pulling out a pen and some paper. "If you can get the Devil's Dozen's aid, you may embark on your expedition through Limbo City."

Dante nodded. "There is another thing I wanted to know." Ira's eyebrows raised, not out of curiosity but rather of annoyance at the hunter's presence. "The corpsebots that patrol the town. Where did they come from?"

"He means the Vitruvians." Jeremy quickly translated, and sank behind Dante. The woman's gaze was one of steel; had he any less conviction, the son of Sparda would have simply left the room at that look. However he needed to know who was killing people for the sake of demon hunting.

"I am not at liberty to discuss this."

"You should be."

"Are you threatening me, Sir Dante?" Her constant formal voice was actually beginning to piss Dante off. If he wanted, he could easily slaughter everybody in the building, the devil hunter included.

"No, I need to know."

"It is not yours to know. Now leave, before I change my mind." Dante gritted his teeth at the last comment, before exhaling. Making enemies wasn't the best of ideas right now. He turned and stalked out of the room, Jeremy close behind.

"You're an idiot, Dante." The son of Sparda shrugged. "You managed to piss off the city's mayor. She makes the major decisions on what the community does directly under the District Manager."

"I don't give a fuck." Dante's response was sharp as his blade. "She stands in the way of the truth. I won't let another Mundus arise out of deceit like that." He punched his palm as soon as they exited the building. "I promise you that."

"Alright kid," Jeremy said, brushing his hair back and not pressing the subject. "Whatever you say. Anyway, when you mean the owner of the Devil's Dozen, you'd best be on your best behavior."

"Or what? She'll shoot me?"

"Then learn you aren't human when you stand back up." Jeremy shook his head. "You want your people to be reunited with the world? You don't piss off everybody who could help in that goal." The words were true enough, the son of Sparda certainly didn't find himself disagreeing. They fast approached the bar, which stood at a corner near the entrance.

As far as buildings went, this bar was one of the largest buildings Dante had seen in this city. He folded his arms as he looked at the bright purple neon sign, reading "The Devil's Dozen", and beneath it the number "666" was displayed. "Cute." Dante noted, and Jeremy chuckled.

"We really want to raise our fingers to the devil. What better way than using his symbol?"

"All I know is it better have some decent beer." Dante responded as he opened the door. The establishment wasn't ill-kept; the bar was tidy and clean, this could be seen even despite the dozens of denizens that inhabited the place. There was a respect in the air, something that a lot of bars lacked. The son of Sparda could not tell if he was happy with this atmosphere or if he was intimidated by it.

A scent reached Dante's nose as the two approached the server. It was familiar, yet different. Where had he smelled anything like this before? He looked around the room. There was much rosemary hung around the rafters of the bar, but it wasn't flowers he smelled. He leaned on the counter, and shook the feeling away. It was nothing. Had to be.

"Make it cold and strong." Dante called to the server, who nodded.

"You should at least be sober before the proprietor. Are you an idiot?" Jeremy chided, rolling his eyes.

"You can't tell me what to do." Dante responded. A glass filled with the alcoholic liquid soon slid the son of Sparda's way, but a bullet hit the mug before he could grab it. He looked in the direction it came from, seeing a man garbed in a leather jacket and jeans, with short black hair.

"Well well. Lookie at you kid, trying to join the big leagues." The man said, hopping down from the table he stood upon. The patrons of the bar did not seem to react overmuch to this display.

"Versus you, who can't even aim that high." Dante pushed himself from the bar, looking at the man. This was where the smell came from. "Are you usually so piss-poor at shooting a gun, or is it because you're drunk off your ass?"

"Cute, as can be expected from someone of your caliber." The man strolled toward the bar. "I have to admit, among the demon hunters I've seen, you have to be the funniest."

"Thanks for the compliment." Dante responded, starting to understand what was going on. "Especially for a drunk fuck like you."

"Actually, Dante, I am quite sober." Dante's eyes opened as he heard his name.

"I never told you—"

"You never needed to." The man laughed. "Get your nose checked if you can't recognize me at this point, kid. I ain't human."

"…a demon."

"Wrong again! A Sin." Dante found himself facing the barrel of the Sin's gun, staring down it and into his eyes.

"Sin, Demon…same thing." Dante grabbed what remained of the glass and swung it at the Sin, who dodged it easily.

"This isn't any fun, now is it?" the Sin said. "You know, there's something you have…that I want."

"What would that be?"

"Rebellion! One of the Devil Arms of Sparda." At this, Rebellion materialized in Dante's hand. "How about a bet? Devil Arm for Devil Arm!"

"The fuck is a Devil Arm?" Dante pointed Rebellion threateningly at the Sin. "And which sin are you?"

"A Devil Arm is the manifestation of a demon's soul given form. A weapon made out of a demon." The Sin answered. "And I want them all. Every single one, if that answers your question."

"So, Envy?" Dante's guess made the Sin bust out laughing.

"That pansy doesn't even know how to go get what he wants! No, Son of Sparda, I am the embodiment of the sin of Greed."

"Greed, huh?" Dante said, and looked at the Rebellion in his hand.

"So how about we make this…interesting. If you win, I'll fork over part of my soul in the form of a Devil Arm for you. The Gemini Blade." He pointed at Rebellion. "And if I win…the Rebellion, and Sparda's power, are mine!"

"So, I get to kick your ass _and_ get a new toy out of it, too?" Dante chuckled. "My day just keeps getting better." Greed chuckled as well, and hopped down.

"No, no. In a straight fight, in your condition, there's no chance." Greed shrugged. "You're too…what's the term…repressed. Besides, we wouldn't want to trash the lovely lady's joint now would we?"

"Why do you care?"

"I propose, rather than a battle…a contest of skill."

"Of skill?"

"Yeah. You look pretty handy with a gun, and we have a dart board over there." He gestured toward the round board, with all the markings you'd expect of a dart board. "The rules are simple. We get six bullets per round. Every bullseye someone makes, the other player takes a shot of the strongest drink we have here." He gestured towards Dante's Ebony and Ivory. "We play for ten rounds, and at the end, we fire one last bullet at the board. Whoever gets closer to the bullseye wins."

Dante pulled out Ivory, smirking confidently. "So, bullets to beer. Sounds like my kind of game." Greed slapped a hefty sum of money in the form of several dollar bills down on the counter, and the server nodded, pulling out several shot glasses and a bottle that contained a liquid Dante recognized as very powerful liquor.

"I'll let you have the first go, then." Greed said, taking a seat at the counter. The dart board was a good distance away, making this game a lot more difficult than traditional darts. Nevertheless, the devil hunter prided himself on his miraculous aiming ability. He gazed along Ivory's barrel, down to the bullseye. Six shots, the traditional clip size of a pistol. He would have scoffed, were he not focused on winning. A Devil Arm might be just what he needed to get an edge on Pride; especially if it was really a piece of Greed's soul.

He exhaled and pulled the trigger gently, making sure he had the target lined up. Normally he wouldn't take so much time doing this, but he wanted to make sure he did not lose Rebellion. That was one part of Sparda he did not want gone. The sound of the gunshot rang out across the room, and the hunter felt the familiar push of the firing on his arm. "Bullseye!" called out of the devil hunters who sat beside the board. Dante opened his eyes and watched the hunter pull the bullet out, and saw Greed take a shot.

"Can we go a bit faster about this then, Dante?" he asked, and Dante rolled his eyes. He still had five bullets left to fire.

"I was just making sure you could handle a drink." Retorted the son of Sparda, who turned to face the dart board once more. He pulled the trigger again, this time much more sure about his chances of meeting the target.

"Bullseye!" Cried the hunter, "Bullseye! Three in a row!" With each bullet fired, Greed took another shot of whatever kind of beer the Devil's Dozen served. It seemed that Dante was on the up and up of this little contest; he had managed to score six bullseyes in a row, a perfect score for round one, and that meant the Sin must have had six shots.

"Ready for my turn?" Greed said, standing up. He wasn't even a bit tipsy; Dante's eyes widened. "I forgot to mention, Dante. I'm immune to alcohol. Makes getting wasted an incredibly difficult task." He grabbed his pistol off the counter, and fired six bullets straight into the bullseye—the pieces of lead even stacked! Dante watched in horror as the server poured six shots. "Drink up."

Dante glanced at Greed, and grudgingly downed the shots. The drink was powerful, and after a single shot he already felt tipsy. By the time he was done with the sixth shot, he was almost seeing double; were he human, he was sure that he would have passed out. His knees wobbled beneath him as he stood to take his place, and he aimed Ivory once more.

He took a breath and focused; the alcohol was having one hell of an effect on the hunter. The dart board was all over the place, and he could hardly see where he was even aiming. He pulled the trigger with a prayer, and heard the devil hunter by the board call out a bullseye. He smiled and shook his head, telling himself he wasn't out yet. He fired off the last five bullets, the man calling a bullseye on each one. He confidently looked back to Greed, who took his drinks and walked up to the plate.

Dante found himself face to face with another six shot glasses filled with the alcoholic beverage. "Think you can handle eight more rounds of this, Sparda-spawn?" Greed chuckled as he sat down. Dante merely shook his head and stood up. If he passed out, he was sure that would be counted as a losing condition. He couldn't give up Rebellion. Not like this.

He gripped Ivory with both hands this time, taking aim where he remembered the target to be. He was relying solely on his recollections of the target's location now, his other senses dulled to a ridiculous amount at this point. He unloaded six bullets, but heard four cries of "Bullseye!" His perfect accuracy was becoming less reliable.

He sat down and watched Greed drink his shots, before standing up and firing six perfect bullseyes. Dante downed his drink, and nearly puked. "You shouldn't have bet Rebellion, kid. You aren't going to win at this rate." The son of Sparda's hand went to the amulet that hung around his neck. He looked at Greed defiantly, but his eyes fell upon a rosemary behind him.

Rosemary was a natural demon repellant, also rosemary extract was a commonly used substance to deal more damage to demons. Being half demon himself, he never cared much for the stuff, relying on his own natural power to take demons on, but he could not deny that coating a blade in rosemary extract made that sword incredibly lethal to demons. He smiled slyly.

"Hey, barkeep." Dante said as he forced himself to stand up. "Why don't you do me a favor, and flavor the shots from now on? These are tasteless." This statement brought about the curiosity of both the bartender and Greed.

"This is the strongest drink we have, sir." He responded, but Dante shook his head.

"Put some rosemary in the drinks from now on." His statement brought about a laugh from Greed.

"Rosemary? Seems you aren't as dull as I pegged you for." Dante shot an amused glance at Greed. At the very least, being a Sin, rosemary would have some similar effect that alcohol would have to a human. "Put some rosemary in the drinks from here on!"

While it caught Dante offguard somewhat that Greed was so open to the idea of drinking rosemary, it didn't bother him much. The rosemary's actual effect would dissipate in Dante due to his angelic heritage; besides, the strong alcoholic content would numb him to any pain he would actually feel from imbibing it.

He cracked his neck as he stood up to the plate, and pulled the trigger six times. In addition to making the game more even for himself, bringing up the rosemary bought Dante some time to sober up. Just like how he was able to recover from wounds with incredible speed, his blood compensated for the alcoholic content. In basic, he could see again, for now. However, this did not sober him up immediately.

He fired Ivory six more times, the hunter calling "Bullseye!" for each bullet. He glanced over at Greed, who seemed amused by this. The superior expression on his face disappeared quickly, however, when he drank the rosemary shots. He stood up and faltered worse than Dante had been on round two. He held his gun up to fire, but only managed to score one bullseye.

Dante took his shot victoriously and stood up, taking aim at the target. The game went increasingly in his favor, Greed nearly keeling over before his turn on round ten. "Guess you really can't handle a drink." Remarked the son of Sparda. The Sin looked him in the eye and gave a smirk.

"This way it's fun." His words were slurred, and Dante barely understood what he was trying to say, before he stood up and took his stance. Six shots were fired, six bullseyes were called out. The hunter was confused at this; he was sure that the rosemary was having ill effects on the Sin. Dante looked behind Greed, and could swear that he was still seeing double from the drink. "I'm drunk, don't mean I'm a poor shot. Take yer shots."

Dante took his shots, and stood up. The bartender stood between the two, and looked at the dart board. "This is the final round! One bullet will be fired from each gun." He grabbed Dante's Ivory and Greed's pistol, showing them to the crowd. "The man who manages to hit closest to the center of the bullseye will win this game."

Dante smirked and took aim, as did Greed. "May the best demon win." The Sin said. He was at a clear advantage; while the hunter may have thought that he was the one who was winning this game before, it turned out that in his drunken state he did not realize that his foe had duplicated himself. The bartender did not seem to call this out on the rules, so he did not seem to care. This spelled ill for Dante, however.

"Yeah." Dante responded at last, gritting his teeth. They both fired their guns. The sounds rang out simultaneously; there was next to no echo at all, and the entire bar went silent. Both shooters were drunk beyond belief at this point, and it was anyone's guess as to how they both remained standing. The silence was deafening, and every second seemed to last a thousand. Dante's heartbeat could be felt through his whole body: _thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump._ His breath was bated, and his whole body was tensed.

Whether he kept his precious sword, the only weapon that was on par with Vergil's Yamato, or not was entirely up to whoever was closer to the center of the bullseye. He looked at the hunters as they crowded around the dart board, and looked toward Greed, who did not seem to be anywhere near as worried as the son of Sparda.

"The winner is the kid!" Called one of the hunters, and the whole bar started to applaud the battle. Greed looked at Dante with a sportsmanlike smile, and he couldn't help but return the expression.

"Too bad you ain't a demon."

"You aren't too bad yourself, kid." Greed handed Dante the pistol he had been using.

"So where's this Devil Arm?"

"Hold on a moment, I'm getting it." Greed touched the gun, and it glowed brightly. Dante gazed with wonder at the gun as its shape began to shift, from a gun into a katana-like blade. The difference was that the katana was double-edged, but was still definitely a katana. Grabbing hold of the hilt, he felt a power surge through him. Power like he'd never felt; the knowledge of the weapon's workings filled his mind as he gazed upon the blade.

It split into two forms; a wakizashi and a shinken, a short and long katana. The wakizashi held a black hilt, while the shinken held a white one. Dante twirled both blades around him, feeling their weight; while they were balanced, they also did not weight heavily upon his body like a normal weapon would. He spun in a circle, thrusting both blades around in a display of his newfound ability. Greed merely chuckled.

"No class."

"Huh?"

"You're using the Gemini Blade as a blunt instrument, kid." He shook his head. "She has a lot more power than that. Hopefully some day you will learn to unleash her true powers." He looked up. "Anyway, you have company that I am sure you have impressed. I bid you adieu." He bowed and turned, leaving the bar swiftly. Before he hit the door, however, he called out to Dante one last time. "Take care of her! She may be yours now, but she means a lot to me." The hunter raised an eyebrow before he realized he'd just played a game with a Sin, and didn't fight it.

Before he could ponder this fact much further, however, a woman just under Dante's height walked up to him. She wore a white vest and shorts that cut off halfway down the thighs. The attire was clearly meant to be high class and retain combat readiness. She held two targets; one with a perfect bullseye shot in the middle and one with the bullet hole not even hitting the outer red ring.

"You're one hell of a shot, even while drunk." She observed, and Dante raised an eyebrow. The wakizashi and shinken merged back into the double edged katana, which faded away into nothingness much the same way that Rebellion did. The same as Rebellion, he did not feel it leave his soul.

"You're one hell of a looker, even when I'm drunk." Dante responded, faltering towards the counter. "The name's Dante."

"Dante, huh?" The woman asked, leaning against the counter. "Where are you from, and how haven't I heard of you before?"

"I'm from a place called 'New Limbo', located in the center of Limbo City." Dante's response was remarkably clear. He gazed at the shot glasses that were spread out across the counter. "I'm here to make some connections for us."

"New Limbo?" The woman asked, and sighed. "How about we talk in the morning, after you've sobered up. Clearly the drinks have gotten to you." Dante stood up and turned around, before he fell to the ground, blacking out. Turns out the rosemary did affect him after all.


	6. Mission Five: The Lady and the Tramp

Thank you everyone who's been reading this! ^_^ Sorry again for the early update, but I have work tomorrow and am in desperate need of sleep. x.x  
As you might have seen in the story's change of pic, the commission has been completed, and now the story has a logo of its own!  
Link for the logo: user/TerrorofDeath224/media/Dnclogo_ .html  
Link for the commission: albums/ae16/TerrorofDeath224/Dante333final_

You may also notice I mentioned the song "Everywhere I Go" by Hollywood Undead in the story. If anything ever gets made of this fic, it will be edited out, but until then I figured I'd let you all know my personal themesong for Dante.

I'll also start posting up the songs I listen to as I write these for your reading pleasure. If you want to listen to the theme of the story, that is! Haha.

Anyway, I'll stop blathering. Enjoy your update!

* * *

A huge pain was all that Dante felt in his head as he sat up in bed the next morning. He cracked his neck as he looked around the room he seemed to find himself in. The room itself was not a particularly bad room to find oneself waking up in; he could certainly imagine much worse places to wake up to.

His feet touched the solid wooden ground as he tried to recall exactly what had happened last night. His mind kept that information from him, much to his annoyance. He must have been drinking, and judging by the effects that had taken hold of him, drinking quite a bit. He pushed off of the bed and stretched, letting feeling return to all of his limbs.

This wasn't the first time memory had been his enemy, and certainly not the first time alcohol had been the reason for this. However it was certainly leagues below what his own father had done to him. He had erased Dante's memory completely before the age of seven in order to keep him away from the Demon King. Too bad that didn't help much.

He looked back at the bed he had been laying upon. The sheets were as messy as one would expect from being slept in by a drunk man. The thing was that it was a nice bed. He hadn't slept in one of those since well over two years ago. It was at this point that he realized that he was wearing only his undershirt and his jeans. His coat and shoes were elsewhere. His shoulders sagged as he exhaled disappointedly.

He moved toward the mirror that was in the room, noticing that his hair was a few shades brighter than it was when he last checked…how many days ago? Between leaving New Limbo and fighting his way through Limbo City, and whatever the hell happened last night…either way, he needed new hair dye, and soon.

As he ran his hand through his greyish hair, a result of his natural silver beating out the black dye he consistently covered his hair with, the door opened behind him. In the frame stood a beautiful woman; short midnight black hair, a beautiful white complexion paired with a shirt that cut off around the midriff, and hips that filled her shorts just perfectly. She leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll have your payment in a bit." Dante called out, not looking directly at the woman. For all he knew she could have been a whore he had hired the night previous; as to how he would pay her, he knew not. That said, his statement did not seem to amuse the woman one bit.

"You're new in town." She said, folding her arms as her gaze met Dante's in the reflection. "What do you want?"

"Kill demons, get laid." Dante replied curtly, standing to his full height before turning to face the woman. "How about you?"

"I'm here to make sure that the people of Angelo City can survive against the hordes of demons outside our front door." She stood to her full height in response to Dante; to his surprise she was up to his chin in height. "To that end I run the Devil's Dozen." That name sounded familiar. Brief memories of the night before flashed through the hunter's mind. "The bar that you're in now."

"Sexy." Dante replied. He approached the woman, who sidestepped his advance gracefully.

"You really have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"

"Why don't you acquaint me? I have a bed." This response of Dante's was more sarcastic, but it nonetheless sparked some anger in the woman's eyes.

"So you're the cocky hotshot who takes nothing—and nobody—seriously." She shook her head. "I bet Jeremy found you after you ran your mouth at some demon who didn't bother taking the time of day to finish you."

"Sharp words, I'm wounded." Dante looked to the door, then back. "Well, since we aren't taking each other's clothes off, how about we put some on? I've got a coat lying about somewhere. You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?"

"Answer my question first."

"Killing demons and getting laid." Suddenly Dante started recalling in greater detail what had transpired the night before. How nobody would believe he was from a city in the center of New Limbo. "Might as well be it since the rest is apparently fiction."

"This town has a lot of bad memories about the Battle of Limbo." The woman's tone hinted at some sort of concession. Maybe she allowed herself some suspension of disbelief for him. "It hurts when someone comes around saying that they are from a town with the same name, let alone saying there are survivors of the event that are just beyond our reach."

"It hurts worse when you fight your way out of that hellhole only to be scorned for saying that there are others still there." Dante looked out the window, into the sky filled with blackened clouds even still. "Especially when you need help to get them out of there."

"Let's say I believed you." The woman said, sitting on the bed and crossing one leg over the other. "Exactly how much help would you need doing this?"

"A couple of vehicles would be nice…" Dante began tapping his finger on the windowsill. "I can handle most of the demons on my own."

"Are you so sure of that? I saw the way you shoot." The woman's words were condescending, but held some truth to them. Dante's confidence that he could take on any amount of demons was what got New Limbo into the mess it is in now.

"Speaking of, you let a demon frequent your bar?" Now Dante leaned against the window, once again gazing upon the woman.

"A demon?" The confusion in her voice brought confusion to Dante.

"Surely you saw that he had no reaction to the alcohol until rosemary was put in during our game."

"You were alone." The woman was sure of this. She must have been watching, so that brought some question to Dante. Had Greed somehow disguised himself from the others? How? He saw the Sin being served just as he had. "It was an impressive display. Stupid, but I've seen more reckless things happen in my bar."

"So…I was alone…" he looked at his hand, and thought back to what he had won last night. What was it…then he remembered the gun that he had been given by Greed. Except it wasn't just a gun. It was a pair of blades. He focused, and found that he could still feel the power within him. The power of the Gemini Blade. He opened his eyes, looking at the sword in its base form.

"And here I was, doubting your demon slaying skill." The woman's eyes were opened in awe upon the view of the katana. "You must have killed an impressive demon to get a Devil Arm like that." She ran her finger along the flat end of the blade, but when she pulled away her finger was bleeding. "Sharp even along the flat ends. Definitely a weapon of demonic origin." Dante scoffed, the Gemini Blade dissipating to whatever dimension he kept it in.

"I need help getting the people of New Limbo out." The original intention was to start trade with the outside world, but he decided that it would be easier to move everybody out. No council held power over his decisions.

"Okay." The woman stood up from the bed, looking the son of Sparda in the eye. "I can tell you are no slouch of a devil hunter. I'll help you. _But_," Dante's heart leapt at that last word, "we are shorthanded as it is, and I expect the efforts to be repaid. In full."

"I don't have anything to pay you with." Dante patted his jean pockets to exhibit this.

"Then I guess you'll owe me." She said and began walking towards the door. "Your guns and coat are in the hallway." Dante followed her out to the hallway, throwing his coat on. The feeling of his arms sliding neatly into the arms of his coat was a good one. He grabbed Ebony and Ivory, and holstered them with a smile.

"You never told me your name." He said at last, looking up at the woman. "Mine is Dante."

"I don't have one." The woman responded simply. "Look for Jeremy, tell him to gather Jason and Sean."

"Okay lady." Dante shrugged and walked away. He turned to face her, however he continued walking away. "Anytime you want to get laid, you know where to find me." He could swear he saw her scoff at the remark, but he turned away too fast to see for sure. His coat swayed behind him as he entered the public areas of the bar, keeping an eye out for Jeremy.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun to see Sean. "Hello Dante." Sean did not talk much, so his voice was a rarity to hear. "Are you looking for Jeremy?"

"How did you know?"

"He's waiting outside. I'll be there shortly." He nodded at Dante and disappeared within a few moments, leaving the son of Sparda confused. However the advice had helped him, and he found Jeremy exactly where he was told that he would, so he shrugged off his doubt and walked over to him.

"Ah, Dante. You're awake." Jeremy said, with a smile. "That display last night was…interesting. Is this how demons normally behave?" Dante flipped him off while he spoke.

"Bosslady said to get Sean and Jason. I just saw Sean a few minutes ago." Dante pointed with his thumb at the bar. "What is her name by the way?"

"She refuses to tell anyone. One day she just showed up and championed the town's demon hunting guild. Gave us a real identity, got us financial backing." He pointed at the bar. "Gave us the Devil's Dozen. We usually just call her the boss, or the proprietor of the Devil's Dozen. Some say that she is a witch." He shrugged. "Never seen her in combat myself, but according to the stories, she could take on hordes of demons at once. She was there at the Battle of Limbo, which is another reason people respect her." Dante shifted his weight on his legs. "Why?"

"She wouldn't tell me. I was curious." The sounds of footsteps approaching filled his ears, and he turned to face Sean and Jason. "Well if it isn't you two. So what now?"

"We go and make sure New Limbo exists." Jeremy answered, and gestured towards their trucks. "Then we can gather the army and march forth."

"It exists!"

"See it from the lady's perspective," Jeremy was trying to be a voice of reason, "would you waste your resources on something you did not even know was there?" Dante paused for a moment, considering that thought.

"We'll do it your way." He said at last, and followed the hunters to their vehicles, where they quickly loaded up. Jeremy started the truck while Dante sat back, laying his legs upon the dashboard. They were soon out of the city, but not fast enough before the son of Sparda laid eyes upon the Vitruvian bots again. He grimaced, recalling the day prior.

Jeremy turned on the radio, piquing Dante's attention. "We are the United Government." He heard, his eyes falling upon the driver. "We stand for our race to be united once more. The demonic tragedy brought about by the Order will not stand. It must no—" Jeremy changed the tune, and "Everywhere I Go" by Hollywood Undead began playing.

"Better than that noise." Jeremy noted, while Dante tapped his foot to the song.

"I thought outside New Limbo humanity was united." Sparda's son remarked, which made the devil hunter beside him exhale.

"We were trying to unite." He looked at the sign of Limbo's city limits. "After the Battle of Limbo…things changed. People began to fear the demons much more." Dante raised an eyebrow.

"We lost one battle."

"The battle that mattered." Dante could not refute the claim. He remembered that day in great detail. He remembered how crestfallen the people of New Limbo were after that happened; how depressed he himself was. Most of all, he remembered how Kat strove on to bring up barriers against the demons. She did not unite the people, she did not care for the role, but it was her efforts that made New Limbo's stronghold possible, whether she'd admit it or not.

"So people just gave up?" Dante looked back out the window, gazing at the rubble and dilapidated state of the city.

"A lot of people did. People feared that another big city would just be a repeat of Limbo."

"The difference is, Limbo is a nest for the demons." Dante's eyes fell upon where the Silver Sacks Tower, Mundus' stronghold as Kyle Ryder, still stood.

"Where are we heading?" Jeremy asked, changing the subject.

"Turn left here."

"Boys, we're going le—" Jeremy couldn't finish his sentence before a giant ape demon landed on the truck. It was akin to the one Dante had fought not too long ago. On instinct, the son of Sparda drew Ebony and Ivory, shooting out the windshield, and pushed past the demon, landing on the destroyed road. The demon landed before him shortly after.

"Hello, tall-bright-and ugly," Dante said, backpedaling slowly with his arms outstretched. "Lookin' for a good time?" The demon acted identically to the one who he had fought earlier, charging at him and sending a fist into the ground. The hunter somersaulted beneath the attack, ending up behind him. He reached behind him, but thought to himself for a moment; he could use this as a chance to play with the Gemini Blade.

A bright blue light filled Dante's palm, and the katana appeared in his hand. It was somewhat reminiscent of the Yamato, however it was different in a way. It felt different. The demon sent down another fist, and he sidestepped the attack, grabbing the hilt with both hands. "I've got some new toys." The Gemini Blade split into two; the wakizashi and shinken blades. "Let's play."

He ducked under another attack, and swung the shinken into the body of the demon. It sliced through like a hot knife through butter, and that was something that pleased Dante very much. The demon let out a squeal as the shinken ran through it, and clutched at its wound when he had finally broken free of the attack. The demon spun to attack again, but its target knew how to stop that.

He held the wakizashi up, using the flat end to redirect the momentum of the attack. Unfortunately for the demon, the flat end was also razor-sharp, and it cleaved through the fur and flesh of the monster. He spun both blades and held the shinken out. "En garde."

The demon clutched at its bleeding arm and wound in the gut, but stood to attack again. Before it could, a rocket flew at it. It began to react, however it could not in time before the rocket exploded in the wound Dante had dealt. He turned back to see Sean and Jason with a rocket launcher. The demon was mortally wounded by now, but still alive enough to suffer.

"You owe me a new truck." Jeremy said, walking away from his now destroyed vehicle. He pulled out a pistol and shot both eyes of the demon out. "Where did that thing come from?"

"I told you this was a demonic nest." Dante replied as he knelt down and looked at the demo. "This guy is just an annoyance though. New Limbo should be close." He stood up, but heard something else. Metallic clanking sounds could be heard all around them. He twirled the Gemini's blades, and the hunters took his cue, drawing their own weapons.

"Greed _told_ me you'd be coming back." Came a voice, sounding like it had come from one of the rooftops. Dante looked around but saw nothing. "I sincerely hoped he was jesting as he usually does."

"Where are you?!" Jeremy called out. A minor demon flew out from the shadows, one that the devil hunters classified as a "Stygian". It was a hominid creature with burnt flesh, and a cleaver grafted to its arm. Dante easily stopped the cleaver with the wakizashi, impaling the demon upon the shinken. It let out a cry before he decapitated it with the short katana.

"Oh why don't you three just _die_ already?" Dante still spun around, looking for the source of the voice, dropping the stygian off of the shinken.

"Simple, because housing is a real bitch in Hell." Dante called back. "Now show your ugly face or I might just leave."

"Agh, just like Greed." Smoke filled the air before Dante, which dissipated quickly. The air was hazy, however, and a man stepped out from the haze. "You both have such a way to get on my nerves."

"Which one are you?" Dante held the shinken towards the Sin.

"I would be the manifestation of the sin of Sloth." It introduced, Dante scoffed.

"So you're a lazy sunuva." He remarked, which seemed to anger the Sin. This was hard to tell, however, as it wore a blackened mask over its face. It also wore many flowing robes, as though it was too lazy to have a defined form of its own.

"Shut up, Son of Sparda." It shoved a finger in his face, and moved before he could swing the wakizashi. "You may have the power of a Sin's Devil Arm, but you are clearly too pathetic to use it." The devil hunters looked at the Gemini Blade.

"Makes sense that a demon would have a Devil Arm." Jeremy rationalized. "So, you're some kind of demon?"

"Fool mortal!" The Sin called out, angered by the generalization. Two more stygians flew out from the shadows, but both received bullets to their noggins and fell to the ground. They vanished in smoke. "I am no _demon_. I am a Sin. A manifestation of humanity's dark side."

"Far as I'm concerned you don't seem much different. Maybe uglier than a demon." Dante quipped. The Sin was clearly frustrated by this.

"Whatever, you fool. Do me a favor, and let the demons kill you." A wall of smoke was summoned from behind it, and Dante prepared the Gemini Blade for a battle. He heard the sounds of the hunters reloading their guns, and smirked as he looked at the stygians and apes coming forth from the smoke wall.

"Now this? This is a real party." Dante commented.

"Perish, Son of Sparda!" Sloth called out and disappeared into a haze.

"Dante, do what you do best. We'll get to a vantage point and provide cover." Jeremy said as the hunters dispersed. They were clearly heading for buildings to fire out of windows; there were plenty of them that were easily vantage points for this situation. He twirled the Gemini Blades, and charged forth at the monstrous hordes that came at him.

He weaved between the front lines of the demonic army. They were almost all lesser demons with the exception of an ape demon here and there. Before the front line could get too much further with their advance, Dante merged the Gemini Blade back into a single katana, and spun with the weapon outstretched. Given how easily the shinken was able to pierce the flesh of the ape demon, he figured that the whole blade had to be able to slice up a few demons.

This worked to better effect than even he thought, the blade went through the demons around him so easily he could have sworn he had just swung it through the air. The demons fell in half, the attack having bisected a good few of them. Unfortunately, Dante had misinterpreted the army's intention; they meant to surround him.

Two ape demons descended, and he had to dodge between the attacks. He looked behind him to see a stygian swing its cleaver, an attack Dante had just dodged, however it forced him into a somersault which led him straight to another enemy that sliced open his abdomen. He let out a pained cry, but that was nothing compared to being launched through the air by an ape demon. He landed hard on his side, the Gemini Blade landing just before him. He grabbed its hilt and used it to push himself up, feeling the tingling of his skin stitching itself back together and his bones mending themselves within him.

"I see you guys party rough…" Dante said, and pulled the Gemini Blade into its second form once more. "Let's see what these puppies can really do?" He charged forth, smacking aside an ape's fist with the wakizashi, leaping up onto it and kicking off to gain some air. He spun in mid-air before landing at last on his feet, and tensed his body, before spinning wildly with the Gemini Blades outstretched.

Demon after demon fell to the Gemini's incredible power, however he was getting dizzy from the constant spinning. He looked toward an ape demon that had closed its distance, and lodged the shinken into its face, using it as a lever to pull the creature to the ground. Dislodging the blade, Dante kicked off the corpse, landing on a stygian and embedding the wakizashi into its chest.

He removed the wakizashi but was hit by another ape's punch, sending him to the ground once again. Two stygians impaled his arms, and the ape stood above him arm outstretched. Dante cried out in pain as the demon jammed its hand into his chest, struggling against it. If his heart was removed, he would die. A shot rang out, and the demon's eye started bleeding profusely; it backed off of the son of Sparda long enough for him to reach out and kick the thing away.

He forced himself to stand, the blades remaining in his arms. They were cleavers, and therefore not weapons made for stabbing; this forced the stygians attached to the weapons into an awkward angle. "Ready…" Dante said, feeling the skin of his chest stitching up, "…for a spin?" He spun with arms outstretched, smashing many of his enemies with their own allies, until finally the stygians broke off of their own weapons.

Dante looked at the cleavers still lodged in his arms. They hurt like bitches, but they presented no danger to his health, and they were two extra blades. He picked up the Devil Arm and dismissed it, and charged at the demons. He socked one in the side of its face, keeping the punch going so the cleaver affixed to his triceps met the creature's face soon after. He ended this combo with a swift kick to its chest, sending it at a crowd of its allies.

He looked behind him and elbowed the ape with both elbows, the cleavers not as effective as cutting through its armored fur as the Gemini Blade. However it was enough to push the thing back long enough for Dante to face it and sock it clean in the gut, causing it to fold over. He ran his cleavers across its face before kicking it to the ground and stomping its head.

He turned to see more demons massing themselves to face him, and flinched as a rocket exploded in the center of the crowd. The devil hunters were not used to fighting so many demons at once; they needed to constantly change their cover and attack when the monstrosities were focused on him, or they would be overwhelmed. He withdrew Ebony and Ivory from their holsters, twirling them along his fingers and walking calmly towards another group of enemies.

He focused his strength into his leg, and kicked a stygian skyward. After a moment he looked up to see the creature flailing about in freefall. He bent his legs, and leaped upwards; his jump was powerful enough to bring him to meet the demon midair. He planted both of his feet on it, and smirked. He willed himself forward, and it was as though an angel had followed his command. This was his ability, the "Angel Glide." He flew forward, carrying the demon with him, until finally the demon met the ground.

Dante landed atop the demon, feet-first, and it began sliding along the ground. He laughed as he spun, taking potshots at enemies with his pistols. Anything that dared get in the way of the surf-demon was quickly knocked back, and everything else had the good sense to dive out of the way. The wall of a building was coming up fast, and he took a few final shots at the demons. "Final stop!" He slammed his foot down upon the stygian's spine, snapping it like a twig and stopping their movement. He calmly stepped off of its corpse. "Everybody off."

The demons were now all before Dante. There was a good amount of them left; it was a daunting task, slaying a whole army. However, a greater number of them were now scattered along the ground, dead. He holstered his pistols, drawing forth the Gemini Blade once more. He brandished the weapon, and ran his finger along the blade. "I hope you three are watching!" He called out, looking at his own blood on the weapon. "Every single one of these demons will be dead…" he held his finger out, blood pooling into a droplet, "…by the time this drop hits the floor."

The blood dripped off of his finger, and he flew forth with Gemini Blade in hand. A gleam of light shone from the weapons as they tore through the demonic horde, the demons squealed however the hunter did not hear this. He kicked one demon to the side into a dozen other demons, spun and impaled three on his shinken, decapitated another two with the wakizashi, then tossed the weapon into the air and drew his pistols.

Several bangs could be heard from the guns, and several demons within an instant had new holes in their heads. Dante looked over and saw that the blood drop had reached half the height he dropped it from, and pistol whipped two demons away from him, holstering his guns, grabbing shinken and leaping to grab the wakizashi out of the air.

Using his angelic glide, he propelled himself downward into three more foes, splattering them all against the pavement. He leaped forward and slashed at five other demons, cleaving open their torsos and causing them to vanish into smoke. He landed on his shoulder and rolled to his feet, jamming the wakizashi through the jaw of an ape, before tearing it out of the creature's face. He looked over the droplet, and saw it was nearing the ground.

He flew to the ground, slicing apart another demon and flurrying his blades all around him, dicing several foes into pieces. Finally, he paused, and merged the Gemini Blade into its primary form, and acted as though he was sheathing it. When the guard hit his thumb's knuckle, every foe present shattered nigh instantly. Foe after foe fell to the ground as the son of Sparda walked calmly over to the splat of his own blood on the ground.

He bent over to touch it, when he heard one last bang. He spun to see a demon fall and burst into smoke, while the whole army began doing the same. "Hey Dante, you missed one!" Called out Jeremy. Dante flipped the bird at him.

"That all of them?"

"Seems to be. All you demons so friendly with each other?"

"Only the cool ones." It took a few minutes, but Dante and crew reunited before their vehicles. They all looked battered from the fight.

"There were demons hiding in the woodworks." Jason explained, which was believable. Dante looked back to the patch of road they fought upon. If only he had the power of Greed before now; he could have prevented the Battle of Limbo from being such a horrendous day.

"We should get going to New Limbo." Dante said, hopping into the destroyed truck. The windshield was absolutely shattered, and the hood had a gigantic dent in it, though the vehicle seemed to still be operational based on the fact it started up.

"With people like Sloth running around, summoning demons and whatnot…you sure they still exist?"

"We have wiccan spells." Dante said, replacing his feet on the dashboard. "No demon could have gotten in."

They rounded a corner and he saw the familiar dome of New Limbo. This brought a small smile to his face. "No demon."


	7. Mission Six: Bon Apetit, New Limbo

Hey again everyone! Another hot and fresh mission coming at'cha an hour and fifteen minutes early. If you like it, comment and/or fav, so I can know I'm doing something right! If not, lemme know how I can improve my storytelling!  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Lies" by Evanescence. Enjoy!

* * *

Charles and Abel sat around the bar, several other patrons now stood around the place. It had been a day since Dante had left the stronghold in search of aid for the people, but this did not worry the two men. What had worried them was Kat's reaction to his leaving. He was often gone on contracts around Limbo City, fighting off demons that threatened to encroach on the dome, so him not being here should not have been too new an experience for her.

"I do wonder," Abel said at last, the bartender leaning in to hear him over the ruckus of the other patrons, "how the kid is doing. He's so confident nothing can kill him. Who knows what is out there?" Charles nodded at this.

"I doubt he's dead." He said, cleaning out a glass mug. "If anything, he's probably sampling some ale of the outside world. Getting wasted." Abel laughed.

"That kid always did have a fascination with alcohol."

"Never wastes much time in nearly buying me out of stock just to go kill demons and get more materials for me." The bartender acknowledged. "After my shift I'm going to go look for his friend."

"You mean Kat? She's become even more quiet than usual since the kid left."

"Exactly. I'm worried." The bartender placed the mug down and poured some beer into it, sliding it over to Abel. He picked it up in one of his big hands, and nodded.

"Aye." He took a swig of the drink, and looked at some of the other patrons. His attention turned back to the glass, staring into the colored liquid. "Ever since that day everything went to Hell…they've been thick as thieves."

"I think even before that." Replied the bartender. "Rumor has it that they were members of the Order before the apocalypse."

"I heard they defected." Abel took another drink. "That Dante is _the_ Dante that ol' Barbas kept lying about."

"Whatever he was before," Charles was now cleaning another glass and checking his stores of beer, "he protects us now. Just like during the day the demons attacked."

"Aye." The two men continued their idle chatter until Charles's shift was finally over. His replacement, a boy by the name of Manuel, had put on his apron and nodded to the men who left. They wandered the darkened streets of New Limbo; it was never any brighter than this because of the dome. However they did have streetlamps that decorated the roads they traversed.

Finally, they rounded a corner, and saw a young woman on her knees. A streetlamp stood directly above her, its light shining down in a cone of brilliance around her. "Hey, Kat!" called the bartender, who ran towards the figure. She looked up at him, her eyes were soaked with tears. "What's wrong, dear?" The shepherd wasn't far behind.

"G…get away…" she muttered with a tear-choked voice. The bartender shook his head.

"Dante'll be back." His reassurances were met with a solemn shaking of her head. "Sure he will." Again Kat shook her head. Her eyes then locked on something behind Charles, who turned to face that direction. He only saw Abel standing behind him. "C'mon hun. You don't have anywhere to go, let's get you to Dante's trailer." Again, she shook her head.

"No need to be difficult," Abel said, kneeling beside Kat and wrapping an arm around her. "The kid'll be back. I promise."

"Get…away…" she muttered again, and looked teary-eyed. "You don't know…nobody knows…"

"I swear, people." The bartender and shepherd spun to see a heavily cloaked man standing behind them. He wore a mask that was as black as night, and his cloak swayed with the nonexistent wind. "You couldn't go any faster? I'd much like to rest." Charles pulled out a revolver.

"Who are you?" He asked. The man laughed.

"The thing that gives you your business, bartender."

"I don't recall serving anybody like you."

"No, you haven't." He lightly pushed the revolver aside, though Charles stood back a few paces. "More like, I serve you. I am the manifestation of…why bother?" He punched Charles in the gut, forcing him to his knees. In an act of defiance, he fired the revolver straight into the Sin's head. It recoiled in pain. "How bothersome! I'm going to enjoy pulling _you_ to Hell."

The bartender fell to the ground in pain. He looked down to see his own blood pooling near him. He raised his revolver and fired again at him. "Shit…Abel, get her out of here…"

"Nay," The shepherd replied, balling his fists. "I can't leave you here alone with him."

"It won't make a difference." The man said. "It'd be too bothersome to have to chase you. So please don't run." Abel charged at him, however it did not make much of a difference. His fist was caught by the mysterious man, holding back the man's enormous mass with little effort. The shepherd let out a cry of pain and fell to the ground, blood-soaked fingerprints all over his fist.

"A…a demon?!" Abel muttered, looking up. He scoffed.

"No, not a _demon_. A Sin. The physical manifestation of the sin of Sloth." He kicked Abel to the ground. "Now, do me a favor and don't bother resisting me." Then he took a third bullet to the back of the head. He turned around to see Kat holding a pistol of her own. She was heavily shaken, and became even more physically distraught as Sloth came closer.

"How despairing…" the Sin muttered, slapping the girl to the ground. "To be forced to see both my physical and demonic representations. It must be…bothersome." Kat shuddered and tried to pull herself away. "Unfortunately…" he grabbed the girl by the throat, holding her in the air, "…as annoying as it is, I must take you alive." He looked to the downed men. "All of you."

He took one last look at the girl in his hand. "Too bad. I would have happily remained in Hell, had your demon-boy not awakened Pride."

The truck arrived at the entrance of New Limbo, the destroyed radio making desperate attempts to keep playing some sort of music. All that came out was static and noise, with the occasional guitar riff playing through the white noise. Dante opened the door and slid out of the truck, looking at the heavy dome that stood before them.

"This the place?" Jeremy asked, leaning on the dented hood of the truck.

"Yeah." Dante responded. The motorcycles arrived soon after them, and their riders dismounted. "I need one of you to open the doors. There are defenses against demons here." Jeremy looked at him.

"Seeing what you just did earlier, I would have thought you were all they needed."

"And then the Battle of Limbo happened." Dante's quip was all the explanation that was needed to shut the devil hunter up. He and his team got to work, opening the door that kept the city safe from the monsters that lurked outside. They all strode inside, but the son of Sparda immediately noticed that something was off.

There was nobody to greet them. Surely they had made a good deal of noise from opening the doors, someone must have noticed. His heartbeat picked up. "Nice place!" Jeremy said, walking forward. "I admit, I had my doubts, but your settlement is definitely here!"

At this, Dante ran forward, charging towards the residential district. The streetlamps were all on as he ran by, and the hunters followed close behind. He kicked down door after door, looking for someone, anyone. Even some signs of destruction, but there were none. There was nothing displaced, no blood splattered anywhere.

Finally he opened the door to his favorite bar, and walked inside. He stood at the counter, looking at Charles's supply of beer. Jeremy raised his eyebrows worriedly. He would have asked where everyone was, but he did not have the heart to. Finally, Dante slammed his fist on the counter. He swore, and with each swear he seemed to make the air even more thick with despair.

Finally, Sean laid his hand upon Dante's shoulder. At first it was violently pushed off, but then he started to fall into a sobbing mess. "Hey kid…" Sean said, smiling. "We know they exist. We'll get the Lady's help, and we'll find them. Promise." Dante's teeth were gritted, and he was barely containing his anger. His sense of failure.

He had failed the people of New Limbo once during the Battle, and now he had failed them again. They were gone; all gone. "There's hope kid." Jeremy stood above him with arms crossed. "When the Devil's Dozen sets their mind to something, they don't give up." Dante stood up, shaking his head.

"It was Sloth…"

"How bothersome. You're a detective too." Dante pulled out Ebony and fired the black pistol multiple times at Sloth, who was pelted by every bullet. "Damn it! Those hurt."

"You're damn right they do. Now give the people back and go _kill yourself_, you sack of shit!" As he spoke he continued firing at the Sin.

"You won't be any closer to—ow!—either of those—shit!—goals if you keep—sunuvabitch!—shooting the shit out of me!" Sloth backed away from the bullets slowly, as if it would help. Dante showed no signs of halting his storm of bullets. The other devil hunters stood by idly, guns trained on the Sin as well. "Stop! Stop! Okay! I'll tell you where they are just. _Stop_!" At last, Dante ceased fire. "They are with Pride."

"And where is Pride?" Dante asked, keeping Ebony aimed towards Sloth.

"I don't know where he is. He never tells us anythi—ow!" Dante fired another bullet at the Sin, who recoiled in pain. "Would you stop that?!"

"Sorry, it's 'bothersome' the way you manipulate information like that." Dante fired a bullet at Sloth's kneecaps, causing him to fall to the floor, desperately trying to get out of the bar. "Where. Is. Pride." His words were practically dripping with anger and guilt.

Sloth looked at Dante, but his mask hid any expression there might have been. "G-get away from me, Son of Sparda!" Dante stepped on his cloak. He looked up to see Ebony's barrel, and raised his hand before his mask as if to protect himself.

"So tell me, how come you're so weak?"

"Power may be something you and Pride both want," Sloth muttered, "but power is a rather bothersome thing. It takes forever to get, and what do you do with it when you have it?" Dante shifted Ebony, but kept his aim true. "Nothing! There is nothing to do with power. It's all so bothersome!"

"I need power to protect the people. Now where are the people of this stronghold?"

"I already told you what I know." Sloth struggled with his cloak beneath Dante's boot.

"Then I guess it would be 'bothersome' to let you keep living." He pulled out Ivory and readied to fire upon Sloth. The Sin threw up his hands and the room began filling with smoke; the devil hunters all started coughing uncontrollably, and the sound of much destruction filled Dante's ears. He opened his eyes to see himself upon the backstreets behind the bar. His mouth was agape at what he was seeing.

"Behold!" He heard Sloth's voice and looked around to see him standing atop a building. "The embodiment of the sin of Gluttony!" He looked towards the creature, a gigantic draconic creature. It's scales were gilded, and its eyes were deep black with red irises, just like every other Sin he'd encountered. Something was different, even considering the complete lack of human form. "Gluttony! Hear me! Dante must die!"

The creature let out an enormous roar, one that made the very Earth beneath Dante's feet tremble. Gluttony was a massive beast, at least the size of two Statues of Liberty. The son of Sparda was hardly an ant to this creature; it was not the first enormous monster he faced off against, his duel with the Demon King coming to mind, but this was definitely a new kind of terror that flowed through Dante's veins.

He holstered Ebony and Ivory, drawing forth Rebellion from his soul. "Alright big guy…" he muttered, swinging his sword for effect, "…come get your just desserts."

It flew at him with its mouth agape. It was as a giant flying snake with no limbs; nothing but a ridiculously huge tail that smashed several buildings in its opening attack alone, and its gigantic bladelike teeth to use as weapons against him. As it neared him, he somersaulted to the side and held Rebellion as a shield against its immense weight; sparks flew from the blade as the enormous creature flew by, nearly crushing the devil hunter before it finally completed flying by him.

It turned to face him, its teeth bared. Shivers went down Dante's spine as he stared the creature down. He held Rebellion between them, however this seemed like cold comfort to him; this weapon handed down to him by his father could only do so much damage to something like this. Then he remembered the Gemini Blade, but not before the creature took a second pass, flying straight for him and annihilating countless real estate on the way.

This time Dante could not dodge all the way to the side, however Rebllion kept him from being eaten whole. Hit nearly straight on by Gluttony's attack, he was sent flying across the whole town. The air rushed by his face as he watched the buildings beneath him pass by, until he finally hit the ground. He let out a grunt of pain, but did not allow himself any solace, standing up within moments. He could still see Gluttony in good detail from this distance, something that made his heart race even more.

He backed into something, and turned to find his trailer. This brought a small smile to his face, before he turned to face Gluttony coming straight for him. He sheathed Rebellion on his back, and summoned the Gemini Blade, bracing for impact with the Sin. He managed to avoid a good deal of the attack, however he was still thrown to the ground and forced to watch his home get carried up by the Sin.

He rolled to his feet and saw it eat a chunk out of his trailer. Letting out a cry of anger, he ran towards the Sin's tail, and was swiped aside, thrown a few blocks down the road. He hit a building, letting out a grunt as he hit the ground, and saw his trailer, or half of it at least, coming straight at him. Sheathing Gemini at his side, where Rebellion was sheathed on his back, Dante charged toward his home-turned-projectile, and leaped through the hole in it.

He landed on the ground in his trailer and stumbled through it, grabbing a slice of pizza out of the air on his way by. His fridge fell open, scattering bottles of beer everywhere, all labeled "666". He took a bite of his pizza and held it in his teeth while he grabbed a bottle of beer and a bottle of hair dye, leaping out of his own window.

He landed into a roll, hearing his trailer smash into the building and the resulting explosion. He put his dye in his coatpocket and ripped the pizza out of his mouth, chewing and swallowing before taking a swig of his beer. "Well shit. Looks like you ate me out of house and home." He quipped, looking at the dragon-like Sin that even now rushed towards him. He took another bite of his pizza, leaving it between his teeth while he poured some of his hair dye into the beer bottle still half full of alcoholic liquid. Stuffing the dye back into his pocket, he chomped another bite of the pizza. "I've got something for you to eat…"

With that, he ran forward, thrusting the bottle of beer into the gaping maw of the dragon Gluttony. Before it could swallow, he drew Ivory and fired at the bottle, causing an explosion inside the Sin's mouth. "Careful! It's a little spicy!" He spun Ivory around his finger, blowing some smoke away from the end of the barrel, and holstered it. In the same motion, he withdrew his hair dye, and looked at the bottle, reading over the caution label: "Caution: Contents Flammable." He tossed the bottle back into his pocket and smirked.

The Sin fell to the ground, flaming alcohol coating every wall in its mouth. The son of Sparda wasted no time rushing forward with Rebellion in one hand and the Gemini Blade in the other, leaping atop the creature's nose and impaling its left eye upon both of the demonic swords. Blackened blood sprayed forth from Gluttony as it let out a howl so loud, that one could assume the whole world heard, and wouldn't be too far off the mark. It launched the tiny demon hunter off of it with a swift motion of its head, and took flight.

Dante forced himself back to his feet, panting. This constant regeneration wasn't doing him any favors in the department of staying awake. The dragon circled above him, the oozing blood like a river with its eye as the source. "Looks like you're a glutton for punishment, too." Dante muttered, strafing beneath the Sin. "…well? Second course of pain on me. Come on fucker, let's go."

The Sin dive-bombed towards Dante's position, something the devil hunter predicted. He ran forward, using Rebellion as an umbrella, pushing as hard as he could to keep the Sin from crushing him there. He finally was out from under the bulk of Gluttony's attack, where he somersaulted behind it and sliced at it with the Gemini Blade, hitting its hide.

While Gemini was much sharper than Rebellion, it was still incapable of piercing the dragon's scales. The beast reared its head and snapped at Dante, who flipped backwards to evade the attack. If only he had any other improvised explosives to use, he thought. Then he remembered the other devil hunters. What had happened to them? They must have been somewhere near the bar.

Dante spun the Rebellion and Gemini while staring down the Sin. He gritted his teeth and looked for any way away from this beast. Finally, he found one in the form of a backstreet. He turned tail, bolting through the streets and into the alleys. He did not roam these very often, however he figured that they must have been effective routes as Kat had regularly used them; even before the Battle of Limbo, and even before the Order dissolved.

He sheathed Rebellion and Gemini on his back and hip respectively, focusing on moving his legs as fast as they could carry him through the backstreets. He heard bricks crumbling and rocks being crushed behind him, the sound of shattering glass accompanied that as the dragon flew through the back alleyways. Dante swallowed, looking up and seeing that he had reached a dead end.

This wasn't where he would stop, however. He kicked the wall and propelled himself upward, using his angelic power and legs in tandem to literally run up the wall. He flipped off of the wall and landed on top of Gluttony, impaling its hide with Gemini and jamming Rebellion into the wound, so that he could keep a good handhold on the Sin.

It flew upward to avoid the wall, however it smashed through it easily enough. The dragon's own body kept rubble from hitting Dante, and its altitude allowing him to get a good view of the city. He found the bar's destroyed remains among the collection of buildings, but could not from his altitude see the others. Were they killed by Gluttony's summoning?

Dante stabbed Gluttony once more with the Gemini Blade, causing the dragon to thrash about in midair. Its flying pattern was now off, causing the creature to fumble and begin its descent to the ground floor. It thrashed, trying to reach the son of Sparda, but not finding any way of getting to him. It rolled over to crush him beneath it; however he dropped down from beneath the gargantuan beast and rolled to the side, barely avoiding a crushing death.

He ran over to the bar, seeing none of the other hunters. Where could they have gone, he thought as he descended into the bar, tossing around rubble and kicking around furniture in hopes of finding him. He heard Gluttony roar again, and reached out for something before getting snapped up by the Sin. It was a surprising and disorienting action, and Dante found himself in the creature's maw before he could think very far ahead.

The creature seemed pleased with its work, having consumed the puny hunter who'd been causing it so much trouble; then it felt something hot within it. It opened its mouth, and the son of Sparda flew out spinning in midair and firing a pretend gun with his finger to mock the beast. It collapsed once more, and Dante followed up this with another swift stab to its eye with his demonic artifacts.

It yelled out once more, snatching Dante up with its tail and smashed him through many buildings. He grunted in pain each time, finding his consciousness quickly fading; he hung on by a thread, struggling against the creature's incredible strength. He struggled in its grasp, however the monster had him right where it wanted him. It held him close to its face, and he heard sniffing. It was getting his scent.

Finally, it opened its maw wide, and threw the hunter inside it. He landed hard on its tongue and found himself sliding down its throat. He grabbed Gemini and stabbed as hard as he could into any surface he could; he heard the monster's intense roar in stereo, his hands gripped to Gemini's hilt as though they were made of steel.

"What's the matter, food poisoning?" Dante called out, planting his feet on the walls of what he assumed was the creature's throat, "Cause I'm afraid you just can't keep me down." He let go of the hilt with one hand, separating the weapon into the wakizashi and the shinken. He used them as ice picks, pulling himself upward and out of the throat. With each upward movement, the beast cried out in pain; with each thrust of the Gemini Blades, Dante came closer not only to his own freedom, but to falling unconscious from the brutal beating he'd taken so far.

The beast's maw came open at last, pain overcoming the poor creature. Dante stabbed the wakizashi and shinken deep into its tongue, pulled back, and fired himself out of the its mouth. He sheathed the weapons on either side of his hips, grabbing Ebony and Ivory and unloading several bullets into the beast's eyes. It flinched from taking each bullet—though blinded, the eyes remained the only viable way to injure the dragon which now had his scent.

He landed on his feet and fell into a roll, quickly taking a stance once more. He holstered his pistols and drew Rebellion. "Still hungry, fatass?" He called out, wiping some demonic saliva off his shoulder. The beast sniffed, searching for him. He showed his middle finger to it. "The buffet of pain never ends!" He looked down and saw the rocket launcher of Sean and Jason's.

Gluttony roared, having found the devil hunter. As it did, he stomped down, firing a rocket directly down its throat. The resulting explosion caused the thing to hit the ground, and Dante leaped upon it. He focused his demonic energy into the sword, and called upon a power he had not called upon since his battle with Mundus: Ophion, the Magical Whip. It was a weapon that was derived from the Rebellion, a power he used as a grappling hook to get around.

The blade of Rebellion extended, as a demonic head grew at the tip of the sword. He whipped at the dragon's eye, and Ophion flew forth. It latched onto Gluttony's eye, and Dante used the demonic strength of the whip in combination with his angelic gliding power, to send him flying towards the monster's eye faster than a bullet.

He held the blade of the shinken before him, and pierced his way through the eye of Gluttony, landing in the significantly large cavern that was Gluttony's skull. The brain was completely unalike what you'd expect from a human brain. It was a magnificently huge orb. "Wow. Lot of room in here." He drew Ivory from her holster and shot the brain a few times. "Party's over."

He holstered Ebony and sheathed Rebellion, drawing the wakazashi and shinken, and flew forward, slicing directly through the orb-brain. Blackened blood sprayed forth from the creature as Dante landed, spinning his swords and turning to face the brain again. Then the orb began to dissipate into gas; it was then that Dante realized that he was not fighting the actual Gluttony.

The entire monster evaporated, turning into dust within mere moments. Dante landed on the ground, merging the swords into the Gemini Blade and sheathing it along his hips. "Already you lazy ass! That the best you got? A fake Sin?" He shrugged sarcastically, stepping around some rubble. At last he heard something. He turned to face Jeremy and his allies, with Sloth in their custody.

"Damn…you-you killed him…" Sloth said, struggling with the devil hunters.

"Yeah, you son of a bitch." Dante decked the Sin in the face. "Now answer my damned question."

"How…bothersome." Sloth managed to say before being decked again. "I told you…everything I know."

"Bullshit." Dante replied. "I'll beat the living shit out of you until you tell me where they fucking are."

"Don't bother." Sloth responded. "Last I was told, Pride was going across the Mediterranean Sea."

"Across the sea?" Dante folded his arms. "How is he carrying all of those people with him?"

"They're contained in a magical orb of mine." Sloth answered. "Now, it's been… 'fun'…I suppose. But I'm due for a long nap after that display." The Sin's appearance became hazy, and soon he outright disappeared. Dante stomped the ground.

"Guys," he said, cracking his neck as his Devil Arm and Rebellion vanished into his soul. "We're going across the Mediterranean."

"That's not the easiest thing to do." Jeremy noted. "But between us and the Lady of the Devil's Dozen, we should be able to accomplish it. And get the people of your stronghold back." He looked to Sean and Jason. "Perhaps we didn't lose everyone in the Battle of New Limbo. We have to hold out hope."

"Yeah." Sean nodded. Jason followed the action.

"One thing guys…" Dante said, looking around. "…all this fighting has been taking a toll on me. I can heal from any wound, but it's not the easiest thing to sustain after fighting an army and a dragon."

"Don't tell me you're going to…" Jeremy started, but Dante had fainted before he could finish his sentence. He nodded to Sean and Jason. "…alright, let's bring him home."

Jason and Jeremy hoisted Dante by the shoulders, and they pulled him along, back to the vehicle. It was going to be a long drive back…


	8. Mission Seven: Lockdown

This chapter actually had two versions, one I labelled "Orange" and one I labelled "Green". The Orange Edition is what I eventually decided to go with, though both chapters had the same basic content.

That bit of trivia out of the way, I am thinking of having an "Ask the Author" thing happen, maybe. Go ahead and ask me anything via PM, and I'll answer ^_^

* * *

"I want a full report." Lady's fingers rapped sharply against her desk, causing Jeremy to flinch. He and his team had just gotten Dante back from the stronghold of New Limbo, and he had yet to awaken. "You found the city…and then?" The devil hunter on the hot seat swallowed nervously. He wasn't entirely used to keeping secrets, but he knew the consequences at stake, should the Lady find out about Dante's true nature.

"The stronghold was exactly where Dante said it would be." His response must have been a dead giveaway that he was trying to hold back information; it could be seen on the Lady's furrowed brows that she was getting annoyed at his filtered explanations. "We fought our way past what seemed like a whole demonic army en route, too."

"That explains your injuries." Lady did not like having to play twenty questions with her men. Her biggest concern was of what she perceived as cowardice on Dante's part. "How about you tell me why _Dante_ has no physical injuries?"

Jeremy looked away from Lady's eyes as he tried to cook up a lie on the fly. His breath came in bursts as he tried to come up with some explanation that did not include his demonic heritage. He needed to see Dante's journey play out, and telling the Lady that he was half demon and thus had miraculous ability to heal himself would not be beneficial to that goal.

"The…" he tried to grasp at the words he wanted to use, though they eluded him worse than anything he'd ever tried to say. "…the more important thing here, is that there are definite signs that people were in New Limbo recently. And we encountered high-class demons that told us they had been taken across the Mediterranean…"

"Don't tell me what is or is not important." Lady cut him off, before leaning back in her chair. "…across the sea? Then I guess New Limbo no longer exists, and we need not worry of them any longer." Jeremy's eyes shot open at this statement.

"What?" There was outrage in his voice as he stood up. "We're just going to abandon them?"

"What would you have me do?" Lady responded, pulling a book from her desk. "As far as I have been informed, this city is not worth crossing the sea for. That is too many resources to expend on that." She exhaled and opened the book, to a specific page. "I have sympathy for Dante, believe me. But I can't run around sending my men everywhere."

"Ma'am…"

"If I knew more about the situation at hand, Jeremy," Her words were decisive. She turned a page in her book, but her attention was undoubtedly towards the devil hunter, "I might be able to help you four out." She meant Jeremy's full report; how would he explain away the injuries that the mysterious devil hunter from New Limbo should have sustained? He paused for what seemed like an eternity, however the Lady continued reading her book while waiting for an answer.

"Is there something in specific you want to know?"

"Yes. Why are you hiding facts from me?" Jeremy winced at how easily Lady had seen through his thin veil of lies. He wasn't a politician, but the Lady of the Devil's Dozen was known for being able to see through political agenda. She predicted how and why the Order would fall, and she knew that Kyle Ryder was no mere person. She had some sort of innate sixth sense for seeing through bullshit.

"I…" he began, however he knew that she would never believe him. He let out a deep sigh, and looked her in the eyes. "…Dante's foes are no mere demons." The Lady raised an eyebrow. "…they are the embodiments of human sins."

"What does that mean?"

"I do not think we can kill them." Jeremy looked up at a rocket launcher that hung on her wall. It was called the Kalina Ann, and it was one of the few mortal weapons that could match a Devil Arm in combat. At least, the way she used the weapon; any weapon in her hands was deadly. Even Dante's Ebony and Ivory would probably be put to better use in her hands.

"Anything can be killed." She responded coldly. "With the right amount of firepower."

"Even a Sin?"

"As far as I have been informed, they are nothing but upper-class demons." She stood up and walked around her desk. "There is still something you are hiding from me, Jeremy. You won't even have the hope of my help if you don't tell me what I want to know."

"I've told you everything I know."

"So be it." She looked out her window, out to the city before her. In the distance she could see a Vitruvian bot patrolling the city's perimeter. "You may leave Jeremy. I am pulling all of yours, Sean's, Jason's, and Dante's contracts."

"What?" There was outrage in Jeremy's voice. "How will we make a living?"

"Good question." Lady answered. "Whenever you are ready to tell me the whole truth, my door is open. Until then, you are banned from the Devil's Dozen, and all guild resources." Jeremy's fists were balled. He wanted so desperately to attack, but he knew that she was justified in her actions. This was a brand of tough love that was well-known around the Dozen.

He bowed and turned to leave the room. There were no further words exchanged between the two as he gathered up Sean and Jason, and moved out of the bar and into a run-down apartment. It was the cheapest they could get, as they had to stretch their dollar. While Dante slumbered, the others discoursed on what they should do next.

"The people of New Limbo need rescued." Jason said, sitting across from Jeremy, a small wooden table between the three. "If that means we give up Dante's identity, then that is what has to happen."

"If the Lady finds out we've been hording a demon, we'll all be banned for life from the Dozen." Jeremy responded as he leaned on the table. "Then we'd be in no better a position than we are now."

"But we'd be in no worse of a position." They both looked to Sean, who had not uttered a word in support or protest. "What is on your mind?" Sean merely adjusted his position in disgruntlement.

"Why are we sticking our necks out for this kid?" he said at last. The three devil hunters went silent, then heard a stirring in the corner. They all looked over and saw Dante sitting up, stretching his whole body and yawning. He scratched his hair and looked around at the tiny room the four of them were in.

"How long have I been out?" he asked groggily, pushing his way up to the table.

"Seven days."

"Bullshit." Dante chuckled a bit. "So where are we?"

"The Lady of the Devil's Dozen has temporarily banished us from the guild and all its resources." Jeremy explained. "Because I wouldn't give her a full report of what happened at New Limbo." Dante looked around at the other three, the memories sharp in his mind, which was a change of the usual pace. He remembered how the whole city was gone…how he wasn't there to protect them from Sloth. He thought of Kat, of Abel, and of Charles.

"Why didn't you give her the full report?" he asked at last, a tone of bitterness in his voice. If the Lady would stand in the way, he would crush her.

"That would have included why you have no physical injuries." Jeremy stated, gesturing to Dante's unblemished skin. "Which means I would have had to tell her that you are a demon." Dante slammed his head against the table.

"I am not just a demon, Jeremy." He stood up and stretched a bit, trying to rid himself of his waking fatigue. "I have to go talk to her."

"I wouldn't suggest it." Responded Jeremy, who stood up at the same time Dante had.

"I don't particularly care what you suggest." The son of Sparda replied. "Whatever you fucked up, I'm going to go un-fuck."

"Dante—" Before Jeremy could say another word, Dante had left the apartment. His destination was the building with the neon number atop the doors. Jeremy merely let out a sigh of exasperation, and turned to face Sean. "I really don't know."

As the son of Sparda entered the bar, he dodged a glass bottle thrown at him from the crowd. "Didn't know I'd become so popular." He muttered as he continued walking toward the counter. The last time he had been in here, it seemed like a place of happiness; a place where men came to drink and tell tales, to relax from fighting against monsters that outdid even the best of them in every physical aspect. Now, however, the atmosphere was cold. Unwelcoming.

"What are you doing here, Dante?" Dante looked up to see the Lady of the Devil's Dozen standing on a platform above him.

"How could I resist coming back to see a sexy woman like you?" Dante responded, taking a few paces backwards so he did not have to crane his neck just to see her. "I really like what you've done with your hair. Wanna mess it up with me?"

"You aren't welcome here, Dante."

"Why not? I would think someone as devilishly handsome as me would always be welcomed in your pants." The whole bar seemed to be afraid of Dante now; the way he so casually mouthed off to the woman they had such great respect for seemed to cause them to reevaluate him. The Lady was nowhere near as impressed by this display. She snapped her fingers and two burly men walked up behind him, and he chuckled a bit.

"Escort Dante out of here."

"If you wanted a four-way, you could have just asked!" He elbowed one in the gut and backhanded the other with a balled up fist. Contrary to what most would have expected to happen due to his small size in comparison to their bulky frames, they crumpled uselessly. "I would prefer more women in the bed though." The Lady bared her teeth as she looked at him. "You wanted to know what Jeremy was hiding, didn't you? One big secret he wanted to protect that, honestly, I don't give a shit and a half about."

Lady raised an eyebrow as she listened to him. "Continue."

"My name is Dante." He introduced, and took a bow. "The son of the demon Sparda and the angel Eva."

"So you are the one who killed Mundus." Lady observed as she looked at Dante. "A nephilim who took a stand against the demons."

"The one and only." Dante said confidently, not counting his twin brother. "Now will you lift this absurd ban, and give us what we need?"

"You brought us into this Hell!" called a voice from the crowd. Dante dodged another empty bottle. The crowd became very discontented with the presence of Sparda's son, though this did not bother him very much. He'd already bogged himself down with enough guilt, he did not need to turn around and start again. The people of New Limbo were now counting on him, even if the people of Angelo hated him.

"You are a demon, and not only that," the Lady decreed, leaning on the railing of her platform, "you are the one who released Hell on Earth."

"Hell is still quite certainly in Hell." Dante retorted. "The demons had always been here. Maybe even before the humans had been. I just made them visible to you." The crowd cried out at him as he said this.

"You asshole!" they cried, "You let the Battle of Limbo happen!" As the bar erupted into a roar, the Lady fired her gun. The sound of the gunshot caused the whole bar to silence.

"Shut up." She said calmly, and turned her attention back to Dante. "You slew Mundus, the Demon King, but in doing so made demons an active threat to humanity. As well, you are a demon. For these facts, I bar you for life from this establishment." Dante's eyes narrowed as he watched the Lady announce these things, and shook his head.

"Yeah, well fuck you too." He flipped her off and turned to leave the bar. As he exited the building, he let out a breath of anger. His thoughts were less on the Lady, and more on the fate of the denizens of New Limbo, on the fate of Kat. What had happened a year ago…what had happened two years ago…both of these world-shattering events were pretty much his fault directly. He could imagine Vergil now, laughing at his failures.

Now, even the devil hunters turned their backs on him. The only help he could count on for getting across the Mediterranean was turned against him. Maybe Jeremy had a good plan of what to do next. He made his way back to the run-down apartment, seeing the lead of the devil hunter triumvirate sitting outside. He looked up at the son of Sparda.

"How'd it go?" He asked, but he knew the answer.

"Bout as well as you'd think." Dante shook his head. "She's being a bitch about it."

"There's probably a reason, Dante." Jeremy stood up. "I mean, she became a devil hunter for more than one reason. That much is obvious even to the most passive of observers."

"Well, my problems don't matter to her. Hers don't matter to me." Dante replied coldly and opened the door, Jeremy looking at him then following him into their apartment room.

"We'll find some other way to get you across the Mediterranean." He said as they walked through the hallway. Dante merely shrugged.

"Let Heaven or Hell try to stop me." Finally, they reached the door, which was opened by Sean almost as Jeremy knocked. They both walked into the small room, and Dante collapsed onto a bed.

"Okay, so we need to book passage on a boat. The Dozen's resources are lost to us, including our pay for this week. So…" Jeremy started, but then the television turned on without any interaction from the patrons. On it stood a masked man, whose voice rang with a certain charisma; one that made you just want to follow the man.

"I represent the United Human Government." He said at first, trying to get everyone's attention. "You may call me the President of New Europe." Dante raised an eyebrow, remembering the Order, and how his twin brother operated in exactly the same way, however he used the internet as a medium for his message. Dante shook his head, preferring not to hold onto the bad memories. "We hope you are all pleased with the Vitruvian Anti-Demon Units we have sent to your various cities and strongholds."

"…fuckin' corpsebots." Dante muttered, but Jeremy shushed him quickly.

"We have been informed that stronger demons have been seen migrating outside of Limbo City. Things well beyond anything that any _devil hunter_ could deal with."

"Fuck you too." Dante flipped off the television, but he had a good idea of what the President was talking about. He remembered when he had awakened Pride, and how he had been told he had awakened several horrors. Did that just mean the Seven Sins, or had he awakened more powerful demons as well?

"As such, we are instigating a lockdown on all towns that have accepted the Vitruvian bots. Nobody is to come in or out of any city without our express permission."

"…what?!" All four devil hunters stood up at this news. Dante pulled his gun, just barely keeping himself from firing Ivory upon the cheap piece of human technology.

"We apologize for any inconveniences this may cause. It is vital for the well-being of our people for us to remain in our cities."

"They can't do this." Jeremy muttered as punched his own palm . Dante merely looked out the window, at the people all leaving the Devil's Dozen and heading over to the town hall. If they weren't allowed outside of their city, they could not fight demons and earn money for it. These people would become jobless, and homeless.

The same fate the Lady of the Devil's Dozen had doomed them to. _How poetic,_ Dante thought, with an evil smirk.

Dante opened the window and hopped out of it, landing on the rooftop. He almost slipped on the shingles, but righted himself as he descended the roof, before finally leaping downward to the ground. He landed into a roll, finally reaching his feet once more. He bounded down the streets towards the town hall to see what was going to happen there.

Who led these mysterious people who seemed to think that they control the people like this? Apparently somebody smart. No normal human could even hope to contend with any of the Vitruvians—they were built to be physically superior to most demons, and even managed to nearly do away with Dante himself. That they managed to send these horror-bots in after the demons, only to use them as a police force was crafty.

Finally Dante reached the town hall, where Ira was surrounded by two Vitruvian bots while she desperately tried to calm the people. Around the bots were corpses, protestors who'd apparently tried to attack. As he approached, he heard people crying, people shouting in anger. This was a plan that would separate the people. Why this 'United' government would separate humanity was beyond the nephilim.

"Please…please! Just calm down!" she called out to the crowd which did not comply with her wishes. Dante calmly walked through the crowd, avoiding the people who knocked each other over, and keeping small distance from the people who were armed. The Vitruvians looked like they were ready to tear into anybody who got close.

Too bad tearing into the son of Sparda wasn't exactly very effective. He stepped out from the crowd, instantly grabbing the attention of Ira as he closed distance. "…you?"

"Hey." He greeted calmly mock-saluting with two fingers. "These two bucketheads bothering you?"

"Please, Sir Dante, just leave."

"Sorry, can't do that. Orders straight from the top to stay." He folded his arms, realizing that the Vitruvians weren't just there to deter outsiders…but to keep her from leaving. "I could break that hold for you. For a price." These weren't the two Vitruvians he had fought at the gate; they must have been the two designated as security detail for the mayor.

"Sir Dante, please leave." Came Ira's cold response. Dante merely shrugged and backed up a bit.

"How about 'no'?" Dante strolled forward with his arms outstretched. "You don't look very comfy with your new corpsebot bodyguards." He would have continued, but he was grabbed from behind and pulled away. He struggled in the grasp of his captor, before realizing it was the Lady of the Devil's Dozen. "What do you want?"

"There is a cargo ship heading out, called the 'Angel's Passage'." She whispered harshly to him. "You need to go to it; _now_."

"Funny, you didn't seem so happy about partnering up with me earlier." Dante said with a smug grin. The Lady's expression was nowhere near as amused.

"This is your only chance to get to the city of Empyrean; that is where the Sins will be, that is where the source of these damnable robots will be." The Sins had been mentioned, which made Dante more serious about the situation.

"So you want these robots destroyed…" Dante's smug grin had not dissipated, despite that the Lady looked like she would sooner skewer him upon her rocket launcher's bayonet than flirt with him. "…so your hunters will be able to go to work?"

"You really want me to hurt you, huh?" Lady responded, to which Dante merely shrugged. "Even I didn't see the United Human Government locking everybody in. They are centered in the city of Empyrean, built over the ruins of Rome."

"Rome huh? Classy. Lemme guess, their Congress building is in the Vatican." Lady did not smile. "How long do I have to get there?"

"About an hour before the ship sets sail. You will need to stow away." Dante rolled his eyes.

"Of course I will."

"Those Vitruvians can slaughter even you easily. Do you want to die, or do you want to save your people?"

"Nothing out here can kill me, babe. I'll go get Jeremy and friends, and we'll—"

"No. They can't come."

"Why the hell not?"

"I can sneak one new resident out," she stood away from Sparda's son, and he stretched. "But four will get some questions asked, and we can't risk that."

"Will I have any friends in Empyrean?"

"One. Look for someone named 'Cain'. He was against the idea of the Vitruvian bots in the first place."

"Least one human has some goddamned sense."

"He will help you when you get there."

"One more thing." Dante began walking away from the Lady, not looking at her as he finished his sentence. "Sean, Jason, Jeremy? Revoke their bans."

"Sure. Just go. _Now_."

Dante ran through the city, bolting past crowds of protestors, defiant of missing his ride across the Mediterranean. He had no time to say goodbye to Jeremy and his partners, but he knew they wouldn't mind. The most important thing now was the people of New Limbo.

The port soon came into view, and Dante let out a sigh of relief at the sight. The _Angel's Passage_ had not left quite yet. His shoulders sagged as he walked toward the ship. He was leaving without saying goodbye; while this place was no New Limbo, there were people here worth protecting.

People worth fighting for.


	9. Mission Eight: The Demon of the Deep

Thanks everyone for enjoying my story! I may not reply directly to some reviews, but I read and appreciate each and every one of them!  
Today's story is really where the plot deviated from my original design; I had originally never planned to have Dante traverse the Mediterranean Sea. In fact, the original concept here was for him to go back through Limbo City and end up fighting the real Gluttony, but I redesigned it a bit because it did not feel like it would be good to go back and forth along the city of Limbo.  
That and I really wanted an excuse to have Dante end up fighting Cthulhu cause c'mon, it's fuckin' Cthulhu. He needs a boot up his R'leyhian ass. Yes I understand that R'leyh is not in the Mediterranean, but ah well. For now it works :)

Enjoy! Leave comments, tell me what you liked or didn't like so I can make the best story possible! Thank you!

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_Yo ho, yo ho, my words ye heed,  
Yo ho, yo ho, else of the devils ye'll cry,  
Yo ho, yo ho, it's better ya read,  
Yo ho, yo ho, rather than die,_

_In the sea, there be a fear,  
Among sailors and hunters it's clear,  
That ye be a'sailin',  
The dead man's ship,  
When ye go to challenge,_

_Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep,  
Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep,_

_Covered in tentacles, wrapped up in malice,  
To the man who slays him, I'll raise my chalice,_

_Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep,  
Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep,_

_Spawn o' Cthulhu,  
Son o' the kraken,  
When he's a'through,  
He'll be a'snackin',  
You,_

_Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep,  
Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep,_

_So come all ye hunters,  
Ye soldiers so true,  
Face all yer fears,  
The demon waits for you,_

_Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep  
Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep_

_So my words ye heed,  
Elsewise ye'll be cryin',  
It's a demon indeed,  
And then ye'll be dyin'!_

_Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep  
Yo ho, yo ho, the demon o' the deep_

Dante could not help but be amused by the sailor's song as he wandered around the port, looking at all the burly men. He'd never been sailing before, nor had he ever really wondered what it could be like. For him, this was all a new experience, but unfortunately, he did not get an instruction booklet on what to do on the ship. He was left with his instinct alone.

He did his best to act naturally among the sailors, even halfheartedly singing a few of the verses of their song, but he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was not dressed as a sailor or a cargo carrier, nor did he know anything about the ships. He could hear on the radio of the people's outrage at the actions of the United Human Government. He shook his head; using corpses to enforce security on humanity. What was the point of it all?

Finally he found himself along the side of the ship _The Angel's Passage_. It was a magnificently huge vessel; plenty of places to hide, or so Dante thought. He had not considered that he had to get on the ship first. Two men guarded the plank which led up to the deck. He scratched his chin, thinking of how best to go about sneaking onto a vessel like this.

When he nearly got shoved off of the pier and into the cold water below, he saw several heavy-looking boxes that the sailors were moving around. He planted his left foot behind him decisively to balance himself out before heading for the boxes. He summoned the Rebellion and wedged it beneath the lid of the box, pulling the lid off of the box as though his sword were a crowbar. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching, before dismissing the sword and hopping into the hay-filled box.

He hastily pulled the lid over the box; air was not something he was particularly worried about. It was boredom that would be the devil hunter's biggest foe, as he waited for some sailors to pick up the box he had ended up in. Then he began to hope he ended up in the right box; it would have been embarrassing to end up someplace far from Empyrean.

As he stewed in his own thoughts of whether he ended up in the right box or not, he heard two sailors walk up to the box. "…delivering some heavy materials today." Said one, with a gruff voice of a man who'd been to see for a long time. "What do they need these things for anyway?"

"That's not our business," replied the other, with a significantly younger and more youthful voice. Both men grunted as they lifted the box, Dante doing his best not to shift his weight in any way at all. "We're just…getting paid…to move this…!" His voice was strained; Dante felt insulted, he wasn't that heavy.

"You need to ask the bigger questions, kiddo." The older man was clearly much stronger than the boy, given by how he seemed unaffected by the lifting at all. "That's how the Order…"

"That's how…the Order unleashed Hell…and got killed for it…!"

"Shut up boy! You've not a clue what you're talking about. The bitter truth is better than a sweet lie any day."

"This bitter truth…costs us…so many…lives!" Dante did not exhale, did not make a sound. He was worried that he would be heard, but he wanted so badly to call bullshit and tell him that lives were being lost to the demons anyway.

"I'd rather be dead than not know my life is controlled by demons. At least now, with these Vitruvians, we can fight back." There was a momentary silence; for once Dante disagreed with the elder voice. These things were the bane of humanity, they would somehow come to bite everyone, not just devil hunters, in the ass.

The sound of feet on cement soon became feet on steel as the two lifted the box onto _The Angel's Passage_. Or, at least, what the devil hunter inside hoped was the ship; he naturally could not ask. Soon enough he felt a huge jolt through his body as the sailors put the box down, and both sat down on the lid and relaxed. "I have a bad feeling about this…" the younger voice started, silently and with pause. They must have been alone on the ship. "…about what we're doing."

"Afraid of the 'Demon of the Deep'?" the elder man chortled, though his words were still hushed. "Listen to me child, I've sailed this a dozen times since the demonic apocalypse. We haven't seen that beast once. Maybe it doesn't even exist."

"But if it does…what will we do about the cargo?"

"A million dollars' worth of steel…it'd be a terrible loss." There was another pause, and a third voice sounded out in wherever they were.

"You two jabberin' again?" It wasn't particularly old and gruff, nor young. Rather, it was a commanding voice, probably the voice of the captain. Like the other two, though, he spoke in a whisper, which made it all the more impressive; a commanding whisper.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," the younger voice started first, but was quickly calmed down by the elder one.

"T'was just imparting some wisdom upon the younger generation, captain. No need to worry." There was a third pause.

"…fine, just…don't impart too much. We don't want to scare the new blood off."

"Aye aye," the elder voice was the last Dante heard, before three sets of footsteps slowly fading into whatever distance there was in the room. After what had seemed like hours, and footsteps coming and going from the cabin he was in, the ship had finally set sail. By this time, the devil hunter was incredibly antsy, wanting to be on the ground in Empyrean City.

He heard them singing again. "The Demon of the Deep". What kind of a monster was this, that had all the sailors fear it so much they composed a song? Admittedly, demons were horrifying monsters, and he'd fought some that made others look like children's toys, but whatever hid beneath the waters of the Mediterranean Sea must have been a truly terrifying foe. His blood ran hot at the thought of clashing with a monster of that caliber.

Finally, he had had enough of waiting around in the box. He moved to stand up, but found that things had been stacked on top of the box he was in. He paused for a moment, considering his situation; this was not something he had no ability to get out of. He pushed against the top with a burst of strength, hearing the boxes topple all over boxes. The weight of them was lifted from the top of his own box, and opening it was an easy task.

He stretched his arms out wide as soon as he could and stepped forth from the box. He looked around at the cargo; the room was full of it! He was sure he didn't hear that many people come in. Maybe he was in one of the boxes that was added later? He shook his head and looked around the small cabin, resisting the urge to walk outside.

Why was this ship allowed out of port and not the others, he found himself wondering as he sat atop one of the wooden crates. He looked at his coat again, examining it closely; there were holes in the sleeves from when he'd been impaled on the arms by those demons from earlier. He would need to see a seamstress about that once he made port in Empyrean.

He heard the cabin door open and looked to see a young man staring him straight in the eyes. His own eyes widened in response; why hadn't he stayed in the box? He began to think up reasons for being there, reasons that could exonerate him of being a simple stowaway. The man shook his head before Dante could speak, however, and he had turned and ran. The devil hunter chased after him, weaving through the corridors to catch up with the young man, and not caring about who else saw him.

Before he caught him, he found himself on the deck, with a crew full of heavily-built sailors staring straight at the debacle. One man stood out from the crowd, walking towards Dante. "You aren't of my crew, nor my cargo." The hunter swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say. They were out at sea, the horizon was by now entirely blue.

"This isn't my house…" Dante finally responded, but looked at the captain who clearly wasn't amused. Normally he wouldn't care about that, but this was no normal situation. "…I need to get to Empyrean."

"Y'mean 'New Rome'? Hahaha!" A crew member called out, the captain rolling his eyes at the comment.

"Aye, we're sailing to Empyrean. But you…I can't afford dead weight."

"I'm a devil hunter sent by the Devil's Dozen to deal with the Demon of the Deep." Dante spurted out quickly, hoping to get somewhere by playing on the sailor's fears. The whole crew silenced while the captain merely shook his head.

"Never asked the Lady to send a devil hunter."

"She knew you wouldn't, which is why I was hidden." Dante's quick answer seemed to catch the captain off-guard for but a moment, however he regained his composure before a moment had passed.

"Nevertheless, there is no 'demon of the deep'. It's just a folktale, and we have no need of a devil hunter's services." He paused and descended a set of stairs to be on the same deck as Dante. "That said, the Lady probably wouldn't appreciate me just feeding you to the sharks. So you'll have to be doing something while on-board." He raised a hand, and two shipmates walked up to him.

Dante shifted uneasily as he looked at the burly men, readying to draw Ebony and Ivory. If it came to combat, even victory would mean defeat for he knew there was no way he could sail a ship. "I'm not looking for trouble…"

"Neither are we." The men grabbed a mop and tossed it at the devil hunter, who caught it without much effort. "We're lookin' for you to do something. I'll not have any dead weight, but I will have an extra crew member who can earn his keep." He stood before Dante; he was a tall man with very angular features, as well, he was very clean-shaven. He'd been sailing for a good amount of time. "Know, however, swabbie, that I've only the supplies for thirty-eight men over the course of the weeklong ride."

"A week?" Dante raised an eyebrow. He expected a day or two, maybe, of sailing; not a week. The captain now had a smug grin. He held his hand out; rough, hairy, and muscly. He reached out and grabbed it, shaking. "I don't need food anyway."

"Call me Captain Baha."

"My name is Dante." They broke the handshake, and the captain turned to leave, while Dante stood with the mop. He let out a sigh, and looked at the deck; it was made of metal, so stains were pretty evident upon its surface. That said, he did not look forward to the manual labor. He looked out at the ocean, and groaned.

The days upon the ship were pretty repetitive; Dante did not eat, nor did he have a cabin to sleep in. Rather, he found shelter in the crow's nest, overlooking the whole ship. During the day he cleaned the deck and was a substitute for any crew members who needed to rest from their daily duties. He helped the cook with making dinner and was occasionally rewarded with some booze, which he had always hastily guzzled down.

He had thought for a few moments that he would die of boredom even sooner than if he had just remained in the box. While he appreciated the booze he got from the cook, and enjoyed the talking of the crew members, he could not shake the feeling that he was being lulled into a sense of security. The captain and Dante did not interact with each other for a few days at the least; not until the day they sailed into some thick fog.

"Jefferson!" A crew member called to the cook, who was busy carving some meat, Dante behind him making use of his broadsword in a similar way. He cut up the larger chunks of meat, sending the cuts to the chef who made sure they were cut right.

"Whaddaya want, Derek?!" he called back as he caught another slab of meat tossed his way. He eagerly took his cleaver to the dead animal, cutting it into smaller pieces and throwing them along plates. Whether he was talking to the men of the crew or focused solely on the food, he was easily able to cook.

"There's some thick fog up top! We need you and newblood to go cut it up with yer knives! Ahahaha!" Dante merely shook his head as he heard the crewmen speak. The fog would not last, they would sail through it. Baha was a capable captain.

"Shaddup Derek!" Jefferson returned as he pulled down a bottle of whiskey and poured the crew member a shot, taking the plate over to him. "Else ye'll find I spit in the food."

"Fuck you!" The two burst out in uproarious laughter over the exchange, though Dante continued cleaving his way through the meat. Then he heard something he had not expected to hear inside the kitchen; the captain's voice.

"Dante, Jefferson. Arm yourselves." The two looked toward the captain, who looked worried. "Pirates are on the horizon. Derek, get your ass in gear." Dante let the Rebellion fall along his shoulders, raising an eyebrow toward the captain.

"Pirates? Even now?"

"The real demons aren't the only evil in the world, kid. Humans retain quite a bit of it themselves, if you'll recall." The captain drew his sword; a fine steel rapier which shined with an unnatural light. His gaze went along the blade before he swung it to his side. Jefferson drew his own cleaver from behind the counter; protection from rowdy crewmates, usually.

The three walked up to the deck, but as soon as they met the open air, they lost each other. Dante had trouble seeing his own hand, let alone his allies. He began to wonder how the captain was able to see pirates in the distance with this kind of obstruction. Then, he heard something he'd never expected; a woman's song. He looked around, and saw her sitting on the railing just before the wheel.

"Well aren't you sitting pretty up there?" he muttered, taking a few steps toward her. She radiated an ominous light; yet, it was still attractive. He kept his hand gripped around Rebellion's hilt, ready for whatever this girl could bring; she was either a pirate or, as Dante expected, a demon. She giggled and rested one leg over her other, blowing a kiss towards the devil hunter. He got a rise out of it, before he stopped himself, drawing Ebony. "Crafty little bitch, ain't'cha?"

"Dante, who are you talking to?" The captain's voice sounded through the fog, unimpeded even though their vision of each other was. At least they could still communicate, Dante thought as he continued pointing Ebony towards the woman.

"One of your 'pirates'! I wouldn't suggest looking at her." At Dante's response, the woman hopped down from her perch on the railing, taking slow, suggestive strides towards him. He willed himself to pull the trigger, but his finger would not move to unleash Hell upon the woman who reached out to touch him. He evaded the grab with finesse, bending backward and sidestepping, now behind her. She turned to face him and giggled. It was then he noticed that there was a faint glow behind him.

He spun to face a second woman reach out to hug him, though he backpedaled simply and rolled backwards, under the first woman's grab, holding his gun out to face the two enemies now before him. They joined hands and stroked each other slowly, letting out moans of sexual desire in order to further attract Dante. He found himself subconsciously walking towards the two, but stayed back.

He saw a crewmate, not Jefferson nor the captain, walk up behind the two. They had turned their attention to him, and surrounded him in an embrace. They continued to stimulate the poor man, and he could not help but watch, before finally the trio flew up into the air. Dante called out, firing Ebony at last into the air.

The fog seemed to lift, at least for a moment, and he got a glimpse at what the two were attached to. A gigantic angler fish demon had been attacking their ship! Dante watched in disgust as the crewmate was dangled above the creature's maw by the beautiful women; he fired his gun a few more times before the poor man was dropped in. The creature chewed him for a few moments before it stopped, assumedly swallowing him.

Then the devil hunter's eyes met the demon. "Still don't believe in the 'Demon of the Deep', Captain?" he called out before the fog finally returned. The women descended around him, though now he had a clear reason to avoid getting touched by either woman. As they began their advances anew, he danced around them.

He shoved Ebony into the face of one. "Sorry, I don't bone demons." He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, eliciting a demonic roar of pain. The sound was like nails on a blackboard; Dante was paralyzed while the demon screeched. He was pulled aside by the tendril the woman was attached to, thrown to the ground in a painful rush. He let out a grunt as he rolled to the ground, pushing himself to his feet as he gazed upon the monster.

"Check out that ass!" He called out, holstering Ebony. "I knew women had an ugly side but this…this is a bit much, don't you think?" The demon cried out again at Dante, and seemed to nurse the wounded woman. He chuckled a bit as he strolled to the side, taunting it with just how casually he was taking this battle. However this proved to be a chance for him to be caught from behind by the other woman.

He struggled in her grip, but it was too late before he was thrust upwards, and left dangling above the creature's great maw. He looked down, seeing the deep darkness that was its throat. Keeping a tight grip on Rebellion, he braced for being dropped, and soon felt the rush of the air as he fell towards it. He opened his eyes just in time to be snapped up in its mouth. He let out a cry of pain, feeling teeth impale him.

Grimacing, he thrust Rebellion into the roof of the demon's mouth, his hand gripping the blade as though it were made of stone. He grunted as the beast opened its mouth, pulling himself off of the tooth he was impaled upon; with each movement it felt as though he were having a sword twisted inside of him, and in reality his situation was quite comparable to that. His body limply fell from the tooth, but remained attached to the sword lodged in the demon's mouth. He coughed up some blood while his injury healed, and grabbed the hilt with his other hand.

The demon clamped its mouth shut again, and opened, and shut. It was trying to force Dante off of his sword and down its gullet; it was starting to work, for his grip was loosening on the hilt. He felt the rough tongue slam against him, then felt himself slam against the roof of the mouth. It was a nice thing to know that it was only forcing Rebellion deeper into it, so it would not fall out before he fell off.

He let go of the sword with one hand, and shimmied his shoulders with haste in a last-ditch plan. The thing wasn't going to let him go, so he had to trick it into thinking that it had eaten him. The left arm of his jacket slid off, and with it he grabbed the hilt and repeated the trick with his other hand. It landed on the tongue, and the creature made an attempt to swallow.

"…I fucking loved that jacket…" Dante muttered, keeping a grip on his sword now that the erratic chomping had been finished. He began to spin around the hilt, twisting his wrists to make him spin faster with each revolution; during the chomping the blade had dragged far enough back that he could spin at his whole body length without touching the teeth. He continued revolving around the hilt, the blade so firmly lodged into the creature's mouth that it would take a great force to even budge it; finally, he let go of the sword once he was at sufficient speed and angle, flying through the teeth with such force that he smashed open the bloody set of teeth.

He landed on the deck, drawing forth the power of the Gemini Blade; a bright light shone in his hands and took the form of a katana. He landed on the deck, swiping away a tendril with the powerful Devil Arm, sidestepping the teeth that had followed him from the jaw. The demon let out a hideous cry of pain as Dante turned to give it the finger. "Now get the fuck off my ship!"

The demon swung a tendril at him, though he casually somersaulted under it, blocking the second tendril with the Gemini Blade, forcing it over him. "Dante!" Called out the captain, causing the devil hunter to turn his attention to the man being attacked by the other woman.

"Alright…" Dante muttered, charging forward at the bait, which dodged out of the way. He was batted aside by a flying demon, yanked skyward by a claw gripping the wrist that held the Gemini. He struggled as the winged demon pulled him further and further from the _Angel's Passage_, then separated the sword into the wakizashi and shinken blades. With the shinken in his right hand, he stabbed through the winged demon's face, forcing it to release his hand. He stabbed with the wakizashi, flipping the demon over so he was on top.

"Welcome to Air Dante!" He yelled out, steering the flying demon with his swords, cutting a way through what he was now coming to realize was a whole swarm of the pests. He swerved and weaved through, pulling the Gemini Blades free of the creature's hide and leaping back onto the deck of the ship, spinning and watching as the demon flew into another, taking them both out. "Flying's overrated, anyway."

"The devil hunter's back!" Called a crewman, and the captain looked towards the man, wearing a shredded and bloody white undershirt.

"Everybody on deck! This storm of demons won't stop us today!" he called out, directing his crew even during this battle. The men, fearful as they were, ran to their stations and manned them, steering the ship to its true direction. Dante twirled the Gemini Blade, looking at the demon of the deep which still assaulted the deck. "Dante! Take care of that beast!"

"With pleasure!" He returned, looking at the woman which treaded the deck. He walked toward her, drawing Ivory. This time, the tendril attached to her back was quite visible; the illusion gone. Firing off two shots, Dante closed the distance between her and himself, holstering Ivory and dragging the Gemini behind him for a full swing arc. He swung at last minute, turning the attack into a spinning assault with Gemini outstretched, slicing deep into the woman. A demonic blood spewed forth from the creature, the blackened liquid coating the devil hunter.

The demon howled, and the devil hunter charged forth, leaping into the creature's maw. He landed on the bloodied, torn up gum, sheathing Gemini and leaping forth, grabbing Rebellion. "This should really stay in the family." He said as the blade was ripped from the roof of the creature's mouth; he landed on the tongue as the creature let out a roar of extreme pain, nearly stunning Dante within it. However, he was on a roll, letting instinct, not his senses, guide him. He lunged forth with the sword, deep into the demon's throat.

The Demon of the Deep squealed as blood spurted from it, though the captain paid little attention; he was more focused on keeping the men of the crew intact while Dante took on the bigger creatures. The flying demons were the real annoyances, however, swooping down on deck at himself and his men. He fired his gun, a semi-automatic .45 disguised as a flintlock, upon the skies in order to keep some crowd control upon the demons while the devil hunter did his job. Hopefully he did not just sacrifice himself to the demon, thought the captain as he ducked under a swooping attack and swung with his sword, clipping the winged creature on the tail.

In shape they were essentially flying stingrays, though they flew like bladed jets, attempting more to crash into their foes than to attack with any projectile weapons or to sting at them. However, clipping the demon's tail seems to have caused the demon a good amount of pain; it squealed as it flew out into its flock, before uselessly landing back into the ocean.

He twirled his blade, looking out to the swarm of flying demons. "Keep her on course! We've only a day left till we hit port, and from their we'll have aid in fighting these blasted things off!" He looked to the tendrils of the Demon of the Deep, seeing the woman still traipsing about the deck, looking for a new victim. "Don't lay eyes upon the woman, whatever you do!" He swung his sword as a wind filled the sails, propelling the ship forward.

The source of the tendrils let out another cry, and fell limp upon the deck, blood spurting from the back of its head. The captain watched for a moment, and leaped backward as the devil hunter burst forth from the monster, coated in its blackened blood, but wearing his beaten, worn, jacket. He landed beside the captain, turning to face the monster as he let the broadsword rest upon his shoulders. "That all you got, motherfucker? Cause I got plenty more!"

The demon slid off of the deck, falling uselessly into the water. Dante scoffed and started to walk away, but then the monster rose up once more. He spun to watch it slam itself back into the water, causing a massive wave that pushed the ship. Instinctively, he slammed the blade into the ship's deck, reaching for the captain who'd already fallen out of his reach. Rather, he grabbed the captain's blade, feeling its sharp sting in his hand as it pierced his glove easily.

"Hold fast!" Called the captain as loud as he possibly could. Dante grunted as the ship was carried by the wave, but continued holding onto the swords. "We're going to capsize!"

"Not if I have anything to do with it!" The devil hunter grunted and threw the captain across the deck, which was by now nearly completely vertical. He planted his feet on the ground, pulling back, and launching up the deck. The sword began to transform as Dante focused on its power; thanks to his victory over the demon known as "Poison," the Rebellion could transform into the powerful demon gauntlets known as "Eryx."

As the red gauntlets formed around his hands, he pulled his fist back, and thrust forward with all his might. The Eryx amplified his striking strength, allowing him to punch the ship against the wave, righting it even against the force of the water that rose against him. Water showered the entire crew as it was broken by the strong attack. Dante landed on the soaked deck, grunting a little. It had been a long time since he had used any form of the Rebellion other than the broadsword form, and he was a little rusty at using it.

The storm of demon seemed to have stopped, and the captain stood beside Dante. "Jefferson went below deck to care for wounded crewmates." He explained, and the devil hunter nodded, staring at the flying demons which at this distance looked no bigger than a swarm of flies. "Crew! Get your bearings!"

"We're just a half hour off of port here!" called a crewmate, and the rest of them scrambled around the deck. Dante continued staring at the Demon of the Deep as it thrashed around in the ocean; then the water beneath it began bubbling. He squinted at the scene, wondering just what was going on, before an even more massive demon rose from the surface.

"So the Demon of the Deep is more than it seems…" he muttered to himself, and the captain stood beside him.

"We won't be sailing again for a while. The port will be locked as soon as we land; just as the order dictates." He exhaled and sheathed his sword.

"So…we're just letting that thing go?"

"I'm sure you'd like to bag that thing, hunter." The captain turned around to walk around. "But we have precious cargo, and while I thank you for saving the _Angel's Passage_, I won't be sacrificing everything just to please you."

"Fine." Dante did not look away from the colossus in the distance. "I'll be back for you later."


	10. Mission Nine: Lockup

Some big news-I am going to be converting this whole story into an original story while I write this. Character names will be changed and et cetera, and I am currently plotting out the prequel, currently under the pet project name of "Devil's Rose".

Now to more relevant news, the making of Mission Nine. This was probably the chapter I put the most work into out of them all-which is why I am no longer two chapters ahead of the update curb. This went through four different versions, each startlingly different in medium and end, until I finally ended up with this version.

It is also a very different narrative than the rest of the story, you'll see. Very new kind of narrative for me, a kind that swaps between future and past, but this chapter felt like it needed to start in medias res. So any constructive criticism is quite, quite welcome, as it always has been and always will be.

Enjoy Chapter Nine! See you next week!

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"Subject Nine-Three-Seven-One-Zero, demonic imprisonment facility, tape one. Recording. What. Is. Your. Name?" The voice was cold, uncaring. Mechanical, in an unnatural way; the beaten and worn young man struggled in his bindings at its sound. He looked up at the camera that watched him; the only thing he could relate to where the voice was coming from. He scowled as he looked at it, but he did not respond to the question that was posed.

He screamed in pain as a jolt was sent through his system, and he spat at the ground. "I will ask again. What is your name?" Malice dripped on each of the words that came from this disembodied person, this phantom that spoke to the man. He struggled once more in his bindings, pulling against the chains that held his arms up.

He looked up, into a mirror, and saw himself. He was on his knees, chains attached to the ceiling suspending him just at ground level. He had bruises all over him, and he was coated in blood. He grimaced a bit, wondering how it had come to this. Another shock was administered to him, and the voice repeated itself.

"F…fuck…" the man muttered, looking up at the camera. He grunted as he pulled again at the bindings, before being shocked again. "…you…" Finally, a door opened up and a man walked inside the room. He wore a business suit, and stood well above the enchained man's position. He brought with him a foldable chair, that he now sat upon.

"This isn't your first time here, is it?" His voice was strong and sharp. He had with him a manila folder, with some papers in it. "A demon trying to invade our peaceful city of Empyrean. You aren't the first, as I'm sure you'd remember." He licked his thumb and turned a page in the folder, looking over it carefully. However, no matter how much effort he made into making it look like this was his first glance at the folder, he obviously knew exactly what all was in it. "Came here aboard the _Angel's Passage_, a cargo ship. When the Vitruvian Units found you, you ran. Why is this?"

The man was silent for the longest time, then he spat in the direction of the man. "Fuck the police." This did not make the interrogator very happy of a person, and another shock went through the prisoner's body.

"You don't belong here, demon. You belong in Hell."

"At least we have something in common." The prisoner shouted in pain as another jolt of electricity coursed his body.

"Smart mouth, sharp tongue. We know of these behaviors; what we wish to know, is your name."

"Anthony Redgrave. I already told you." The man, Anthony, struggled in his bindings.

"How painfully human of a name." the interrogator responded coolly. "Surely you don't think we understand you are using an alias."

"Well 'surely' you don't think I care." Anthony spat once more at the interrogator, who stood up.

"The Vitruvian Units attacked." He said as he looked through the folder. "They recog nized your demonic blood immediately, as we knew they would. How did you convince the men of the _Angel's Passage_ to take you aboard?"

"I stowed away, retard."

"Did not look like it. Footage suggests you were actually among the crew, conversing with them. They were harboring you."

"They were attacked while in transit. I had to help them."

"Yes, by this nonexistent 'Demon of the Deep'. We know demons exist, boy, but they do not exist in such large forms."

"They exist in any form they damn well please." The prisoner looked at the interrogator, directly into his eyes. "In fact, you look more like a demon than the countless I've slain."

"A demon-hunting demon." He turned a page in the folder. "From a settlement somewhere in the ruins of Limbo City. Your story does not add up anywhere at all." He turned to face the prisoner. "You've told us everything about you, none of these facts at all verifiable, and you've omitted your name."

"I gave you…my goddamned…"

"Anthony Redgrave does not exist, demon."

"Yeah he does. Right here."

"We can stand here all day and argue this." He sighed and sat down on his chair. "Or, you can tell me your real name, I'll be on my way and you can take refuge underground with the rest of your ilk."

"Where you keep your hordes of captured demons." Another shock coursed through Anthony's body.

"Yes. You've been there before." He sighed. "We are still trying to figure out exactly how you broke free of the confinement. We have several spells devoted to keeping demons in." He looked at Anthony, and sighed. "Alright, start from the beginning. You were with Captain Baha, on the deck, when the Vitruvian Units attacked. What happened next?"

"I think you can guess. I ran." Anthony muttered in response. His whole body was sore as the man sighed and looked at him. It wasn't wrong, he remembered back those few days ago. How the Vitruvian Units had descended upon the ship. He remembered how immediately they had reacted to his presence, just as they had back in Angelo City. Too bad nobody was able to program his identity into them in time.

"Ran to where?" He remembered as the Vitruvians descended, he saw them begin to apprehend everyone on the crew. He knew that he had to run, and as he fled, he remembered watching the captain's face. A look of some betrayal hurt him even more considering what they had just fought their way past. He had somewhere in the city to be, though; a reason to be there. One name rang true through his memories.

"Cain." The name spilled through his lips as another jolt of pain was sent through his body. The interrogator looked at him and raised an eyebrow, before looking through the folder he held in his hands once more.

"Cain? He's just a regular devil hunter." He leaned in closer, examining his prisoner closely. "Why would you go to him?"

Anthony remembered his feet hitting the ground after leaping from the deck. He had to put the captain's look behind him; he needed to move forward if he was ever to save his people. If he was ever to save Kat. He remembered his breath coming in heated gasps; he had had no rest between his fight against the Demon of the Deep and the Vitruvians attacking.

He rounded corner after corner, trying to put as much distance between himself and the robots who chased him as he could Unfortunately, they were tireless machines, and he, while demonic in nature, had a limit to his stamina. He thought of how easily they had actually caught up to him. Another jolt of pain brought him back to the torture chamber, though he knew not when he was in more pain.

"I'll ask again. Why go to a devil hunter?" Even though his words sounded impatient, his voice did not. He had all day to do this.

"The crew of…" Anthony started, and looked up. "…the _Angel's Passage_…what of them?" Memories flashed through his mind; of the captain's face, of his crew as the Vitruvians descended upon the crew. For the past week he'd been in this damnable city, he had not much time to devote to their fate, rather more concerned with his own.

"An answer for an answer." The man drew forth a pen, scribbling something on a sheet of paper inside the folder. "What did you seek from Cain?"

"Work." At Anthony's answer, the man wrote some more in the folder.

"Work…as a devil hunter?" This was sounding more and more like a psychological session than anything else. "Why would you want to face off against your kin?"

"Shut up…!" Anthony felt another jolt of pain, crying out. "An answer…for a goddamned answer…"

"The crew of the _Angel's Passage_ has been incarcerated under maximum security, and face severe punishment for their actions." He leaned back in his chair, looking over the prisoner again. "Harboring a demon into the Holy Capital of the World is a dreadful offense."

"They weren't harboring—"

"Such an odd demon, aren't you? You act as though you were almost…human." He stood up and looked through his folder. "Quite a strong-willed thing you are, too. You rallied the demons in protest against their captors. Tell me about that."

"Look through your…fucking…file…you have it all written down. I know you do."

"I only know the official report. You started a riot, and betrayed your brethren for your own freedom." He shook his head. "You demons…so monstrous, able to betray your own comrades like that."

"Careful you don't get humans and demons mixed up." Anthony retorted with a harsh tone, spitting again at the interrogator, who administered another shock to the prisoner.

"Silence, you know nothing of humans."

"Demons know more than…you possibly could imagine…" Once more Anthony struggled against his bindings, though this effort was in vain.

"Answer the damned question, demon." There was a true malice in his voice now. He was angered that so lowly a demon thought to judge humanity. He didn't have a clue, thought the man who remained chained up in the center of the room. "What happened in the prison? How did you break free?" There was a cold fury in his tone; Anthony must have hit a sore spot. He was shocked, and with each repetition of this the question too was repeated. "What happened?"

Anthony thought back to what was in the prison as his vision began to blur. The dark cells, the cries of agony and sorrow filled his mind, took hold of his senses in some fool attempt to escape his current pain. He had never been to Hell, personally, but he imagined that it was very similar to what Hell would be like. A Hell made specifically for the demons to suffer in; how ironic. He remembered the several kinds of dead demons he saw as he walked down the halls, pushed along by cold, unfeeling tin soldiers.

Finally he was forced into a pit, down into the main holding for the demons. It was here that he was told to never surrender his name to the men who would ask it of him. And it was then that he surrendered the name "Dante" until such time as it would be safe for him to use it again. The person who told him that this was a dangerous practice to remain in, however, was the biggest surprise to the devil hunter.

"Spells. If they know your true name, you can be summoned." Explained the small demon that had greeted Anthony at the entrance.

"So why is it every time I see you, it's in the clink?" he asked as he walked alongside the small demon. He was about the size of a human, in reality, though he relied on a cane and was hunched over for the most part. He had one mechanical eye, and Anthony had distinct memories of fetching that eye for the demon some time ago, in a demonic prison. He had been hunting its warden, Bob Barbas, at the time and needed the demon's help.

"Please, Anthony, don't bring up Mundus around these people." The demon said. Though his true name was Phineas, he went by the pseudonym of "Glayve". "They are even more hurt by the events of two years ago than the humans."

Anthony looked around at the demonic inmates. At a glance, this was completely evident; they were being captured like animals at this point. Originally he had thought they merely attacked demons that invaded the city and brought them here, however this was far from the truth. This city's devil hunting guild actually went out and caught trophies for whoever was in charge.

"You are not a mere demon," he said as they sat upon a bench that remained near the entrance to the prison. It was a large complex, and within it the demons were allowed to roam the place. The large seal upon the door, one which reminded him of Kat, was what kept the demons from tunneling out, or breaking down the entrance. "You are nephilim. That seal can only stop a demon; it will not stop you."

"How do you know this?" Anthony asked. By this time he had been stripped of all of his mortal weapons, however his Devil Arms were still a part of his soul, and as such the humans could not take them from him. Nevertheless they held Ebony and Ivory in their greasy clutches.

"I've studied the runes extensively." Glayve responded as he stood just beside the seal; just a hair's breadth from touching it. "As a demon, I felt the human's study of us was fascinating. Especially the Mediums, or what humans called, witches. They knew far more than even most demons knew about demons." He pointed at a triangle in the seal; it was somewhat similar to the Star of David, but with slight differences in the designs inside. "These symbolize rosemary, a demonic repellant. Combined with actual rosemary petals, the effect is doubled; near fatal to demons."

"And this won't kill me?" Anthony asked, and Glayve chuckled at the question.

"No, but it will hurt enough to keep you from trying to get through. There is a way out, however, at least for you." Anthony reached out for the seal, but pulled away, feeling a shock. It was incredibly painful, like the seal Kat had erected around New Limbo. "Be careful."

"How the hell do I get out of here then?" Anthony asked, looking up. The cavern was enormous; built to keep the demons in no matter what happened; if for some reason the seal broke, the demons would need to be able to fly to escape, and all the flying demons were collared to prevent such an attempt. Whoever was in charge here, they had thought a lot of things through.

"That is because they see demons as animals, they don't expect a full revolt." When Glayve said this, Anthony stopped dead. His eyes fell upon the small demon.

"Why are you helping me? I already told you that I am a devil hunter."

"Because nobody wants to be in here. Even demons have a limit to the torture we can take." He turned to face Anthony. "While only you can get out like this…I trust someday you'll be back. Think of yourself as an investment." The hunter shrugged at this comment, and looked around at the people.

"Even against Mundus?" Glayve cringed at the mention of the name, and other inmates began turning their heads.

"When I helped you in your battle against him, it was because you needed help, and you were already helping me."

"Honorable for a demon." At Anthony's comment, the demon nodded. The others had returned their attention to whatever it was they were doing before; not much to do in a small cavern like this one. "So, what can we do to cause a revolt?"

"We already have enough demons here to simulate a revolt." Glayve's words made Anthony raise an eyebrow. Even if Glayve was the one who helped Anthony find the power of the Devil Within, he was still a demon.

"Simulate a revolt?"

"Indeed." Glayve turned around and took a few steps forward, towards the other demonic inmates. Anthony was close behind, wondering what would happen next. "We can not all escape this time, Anthony, but I have studied the circle. I know how to get one demon out for now." He nodded his head over to a group of demons that had been loitering.

If Anthony did not know better, he would have assumed that they were gigantic porcupines. They were humanoid in shape, however they had several "quills" decorating their whole body. These "quills" were more akin to razor sharp blades; these things were definitely monsters that made the thought of combat seem like a bad one. "We call them 'Thousand-Arms' for their many blades. The seal does not affect the swords once they are apart from the demon, for the swords are no longer a part of the demon."

"Neat. How does this help us?"

"The seal can be modified. Not destroyed from this end, and not without the right means, mind, but it can be modified." Glayve strolled towards the Thousand Arms. "We can force your angelic half through."

"What happens to my demon half?"

"That's where the pain comes in." Glayve nodded to the bladed demon, which now looked toward the devil hunter. "Once I say to go, you need to attack the seal with all of your might. Both of you." The being nodded; the sound of the blades clanging together like wind chimes filled Anthony's ears. The both of them prepared and aimed at the seal; Anthony drew forth Rebellion and prepared, before feeling Glayve's hand on his shoulder.

"It's like I told you two years ago. It's all about perspective."

"That was just about the world of Limbo though."

"No Tony. That is about life. You see all demons as evil." He pulled out Ebony and Ivory, handing them to the hunter. They had a few upgrades which were readily evident upon them; the barrels were extended, and they had been modified to fire even faster than before. Along the sides of the gun were engravings, "For Tony Redgrave".

Anthony took the guns into his hands after attaching the Rebellion to his back. They felt comfortable in his hands, like friends he had lost long ago. "Thanks, Phin—Glayve."

"Now!" At Glayve's command, Anthony began attacking the seal, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets upon the purple glowing seal. The Thousand Arms did not seem so eager to attack, having not even so much as drawn one of its many blades. Eventually, Anthony caught on to the lack of backup.

"Something wrong?" He asked. His focus was less on the fact that he was among a bunch of demons, and more on the thought of escape.

"You are nephilim." Muttered the Thousand Arms. It did not so much have a voice, as it did clang its blades together in a way that made it mimic human speech. Anthony folded his arms. "This can only mean one thing."

"Yes, I'm the son of Sparda." Anthony replied, rolling his eyes.

"I will not help you."

"Why not?"

"You induced this Hell upon us. Not being captured, no, that's our own folly." His bladed hand gripped Anthony by the neck, hoisting him into the air. "You merged the reality of Limbo with the human's reality."

The reality of Limbo was the existence between Hell and Earth that the demons had inhabited before the battle against Mundus. While they inhabited it, the humans were incapable of seeing them—even perceiving the fact they existed was a difficulty. It was the efforts of the Order, headed by his twin brother Vergil, which forced the demons out of Limbo.

Efforts that would never have been successful were it not for Anthony's own which aided them. The Thousand Arms' blades formed into a sort of face that the hunter was able to recognize as an expression of anger. "I'm not apologizing." He muttered in response, doing his best not to swallow for fear of having the blades shred his throat.

"Of course not. You're far too proud." The demon, rather than shredding Anthony, began walking toward the seal. "You will see the error of your ways." Anthony held Ivory toward the demon, firing a few shots. The bullets ricocheted off of it harmlessly.

"Let me go!" Anthony muttered in a hushed voice, kicking the arm that held him with all his might. The grip did not lax, however he managed to his one sword seemed to hold a few swords in place. They clanged uselessly to the floor as he struggled.

"Cease this, son of Sparda." Anthony did not cease, instead striking the arm once more. More blades fell from the demon, forcing it to release him. He landed on the ground, holstering Ebony and grabbing one of the Thousand Arms' many swords. Striking forth, he sank the blade deep into the demon's torso. This had little effect, much to his dismay; he was struck forth, into the seal. A jolt of paralyzing pain surged through his body, eventually he was pulled away from the seal by the demon and forced into the ground.

He coughed up some blood as he struggled to his knees. He looked up to the Thousand Arms which towered above him. "Shit, you're something else…" he said, standing up and drawing forth Rebellion. "Glayve said you'd help me."

"Glayve neglected to mention your heritage." It swung a sword at the devil hunter, who nimbly avoided the attack.

"So that's it? You'll refuse your chance at salvation because you hate me?" The Thousand Arms merely swung its blade again in response, nearly hitting the devil hunter who backpedaled. "Not even a chance to be friends?"

"Your mockery is no benefit to you." It responded, ceasing its attack momentarily. "There is but one way to bring my aid to your cause. Defeat me."

"So all I have to do is kick your shiny metal ass?" The demon nodded at the hunter's proposal. Anthony then looked around the cell, at all the demons who were watching the battle. There were no other restraints in the cavern, they could easily get involved if they so wished. They did not, for one reason or another.

"Show me the power of a Demonslayer." The Thousand Arms shot forth several solid steel blades towards Anthony, who weaved between the onslaught. He then dashed forward, toward the demon, striking hard with the Rebellion. The blades seemed to morph out of the way of his sword, evading his attack completely. This disoriented the nephilim, who was then caught by the leg.

He let out a cry of pain as he was thrown into the ground with such force as to cause a crater, however he rolled out of the way of the demon's stomp just in time. He pushed himself to his feet just to be caught by a stray bladed haymaker from the demon, throwing him right back to the ground. He rolled back to his feet, sheathing Rebellion upon his back and drawing the Gemini Blades.

He rushed forward, slicing every which way he could in some attempt to even land a single blow against the demon. His efforts were unsuccessful, however, and he found himself vulnerable to another devastating counterattack: a storm of blades flew in from his side, nearly eviscerating the son of Sparda, sending him to the ground.

"Unimpressive." Mocked the Thousand Arms, gazing down at the bleeding and battered man. "One would have expected more power from the one who slew the Demon King."

"One would have expected…more spine from someone made of swords." Came Anthony's response after a brief pause. He stood up, holding the Gemini Blades in both hands. "Why don't you stand still…and fucking take it?"

"Why do you?"

"Fuck you." Anthony rushed forward again, merging the Gemini Blade into one sword. He needed to be creative about how he was going to attack, else he would never land a blow on this seemingly nebulous foe. It was like trying to fight smoke; smoke that was made out of blades that were capable of shredding steel.

Blades swung up and down, left and right. Anthony had to rely on his basest instincts to dodge them, for it was nigh impossible to tell otherwise which blade would attack next. His breath came in short, controlled bursts, in order to increase his focus and keep his blood pumping at a good rate. He gazed up at the source of the bladed hurricane, the Thousand Arms, and gritted his teeth.

He thrust the Gemini Blade forward into the mass of flying swords, however they danced aside his attack as he had thought it would. He separated the sword into its twin forms, slicing at other swords. This was clearly unexpected, as he had made contact with a sword at least once during the attack. He launched the Gemini Blades from his hands, drawing the Rebellion, and swiping at a cluster of swords; the projectile Devil Arm had managed to make contact with other swords, while his trusty sword managed to smash the cluster into shards of blades that rained down.

He flipped and planted his foot on one floating foot, sheathing Rebellion and drawing Ebony and Ivory. Kicking off of the sword, he flew back through the blades, letting out a storm of bullets as he did. Each bullet ricocheted randomly off of different swords. The demon could not keep up with all of his attacks at once, as Anthony had expected; a heart could be seen amidst the storm.

He kicked off of another sword, using them as stepping stones toward the heart, firing bullets every which way at the swords that would bar his path. Finally one blade made it through his attacks, but he managed to deflect the attack with his guns. Sparks flew as he marveled at the fact his barrels had been upgraded so as to stand against demonic steel; the Thousand Arms seemed unamused.

"Pull it together, bitch!" Anthony cried out as he approached the heart. He jammed the guns into it, and began pulling the triggers again and again, as fast as he could. Unfortunately, this meant that the Thousand Arms could now track his movements again, no longer confused as to his whereabouts thanks to the Gemini Blades. Swords began impaling the nephilim, his own blood spattering all over the demonic heart he had been loading with bullets.

This was now a game of endurance. Blood poured forth from the hunter's mouth as he came to realize that; either the Thousand Arms would succumb to Ebony and Ivory's sustained fire directly into its heart, or he would succumb to the blades that were impaling him over and over. His regeneration worked against him here, each stab being a fresh amount of pain.

Pulling the triggers slowly became more and more taxing of a task. He felt another sharp stab of pain, and nearly stopped firing, before letting his gaze fall upon the heart once more. Demons had hearts. It wasn't a thought he found himself expecting to think, but this was the undeniable truth. The demons had their own hearts, their own feelings. They had their own goals, just like people.

Other than physical superiority, what separated the races? Another jab to his gut reminded him. One race was an immediate threat; the other race was one that was long-term. He shook his head, spitting up some blood. "Say 'uncle,' god damn it…" he muttered, and began pulling the triggers anew. Having freshly upgraded guns made the fight much easier, but he couldn't rely on the girls to do all of the work for him.

The stabbing slowed as well. His attacks were taxing to the demon as well; it was a battle of attrition. The hunter was not sure how much longer he could keep up his fight against this monster. "Give…up…"

"You have nearly reached your physical limit." The Thousand Arms responded, planting another sword inside the hunter. "But not the limit of your power. You truly are the son of an Archdemon like Sparda, not using the power of your Devil Within."

"I don't…need the power…of a devil…" muttered the hunter in response, pulling the triggers again, repeating this as fast as he could. What started as a flurry of blades and bullets had turned into nothing more than wounded, weakened warriors who were at their limit.

"So it's true. You have such avarice for us."

"That's not…it."

"Oh?"

"The Devil Within is not…me…I don't need…anyone else's…power…"

"The Devil Within is another aspect of you."

"No…!" Anthony's feet were now upon the ground, with a beating heart impaled upon his guns. "…shut…up!"

"Your power is a gift. To not use it is a horrible waste."

"My 'gift' almost cost me everything!" He yelled out, a renewed burst of strength causing him to pull the triggers several dozen more times in the space of a second. The heart was blasted off of their barrels, and landed uselessly across from the hunter. He stood there, panting for a whole second, before holstering his guns. The Gemini Blades were dismissed back into his soul, as was the Rebellion.

"In time, you will understand."

"It's all about perspective, Tony." Anthony turned and faced Glayve, who now held a glowing orb in his hands. He handed the orb to the hunter, who now grasped at what seemed to be just a ball of gas. Then, he felt metal encapsulate his hands; he flinched, and heard several blades behind him.

"Don't tell me he's—" Anthony spun to see that the blades were now reacting to his movements.

"The Thousand Arms is now your Devil Arm." Anthony turned to look at the demon.

"So…"

"He gave you his power. The power to escape." Glayve tapped Anthony's chest. "However he is not wrong. The power I helped you discover…you refuse it."

"The Devil Within isn't me."

"Of course." Glayve turned and looked at the seal. "However, this violence did have one goal in the end. Escape."

"The power of the Thousand Arms…" he pointed at the seal. "Alright! Let's do this!" He began punching and kicking at the seal, the blades acting to his every whim. His energy seemed almost renewed when he got the new Devil Arm; this was a refreshing experience! He doubted any enemy could get the drop on him now.

As he continued his assault upon it, the seal looked different. The purple glow was now a deepened red which colored the room around it as well. He stood and marveled at it for a moment, before looking around to search for Glayve, who had disappeared. "Alright…" he muttered, punching his palm as he stepped forward. "…time to save New Limbo."

He ran at the seal; pain filled his body, mind, and soul as he got closer and closer to it. It was as though his very soul was being torn from his body; the nature of the seal made it so. However, it was the only way forward. The only way out of the damned prison he'd been captured in. He had too much to fight for to sit around with a bunch of convicts.

Then he opened his eyes, realizing that his interrogator was still in the room with him. He shouted as he realized why the pain he had been feeling in the dream had felt too real. He weakly pulled against his bindings, and the man took his seat. "You fell asleep."

"Guess you're just…that boring…" Anthony spat in response, receiving another shock.

"Your sarcasm doesn't suit you. You would be much better off if you'd just tell us your name." Anthony chuckled in response to this.

"Fuck…you."

"Very well." The interrogator stood up, folding his chair up. "I'll be back bright and early in the morning. Be ready with my answte ers then." Before he left, he pressed the button again, administering another shock. Anthony went limp, his body spent from dealing with the constant pain of the torture. He had hardly the strength to move, but he looked up just before the door slammed shut.

"You're. First."


	11. Mission Ten: Cause and Effect

Hello everyone! It's been forever since an update, and I am sorry for that!  
This is a very difficult arc to write, and probably just for the childish reason that I am writing with Dante's alias, Anthony Redgrave, for the sake of the narrative. That, and I am still experimenting writing for two different time periods at once, which is something I definitely could get some improvement on.

Read and enjoy! If you see something you like, comment and let me know! If you see something you think could be done better, do the same! It's encouraged, I am trying to become the best author I can be!

Thanks everyone for sticking with me for however inactive I may have been.

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Pain throbbed through Anthony's body as he remained chained to the spot for what had seemed like an eternity. It had become increasingly difficult to breathe as time passed at a snail's pace, all the more torment for the demon. The camera's eye was focused on him, battering him with the vision of all the men behind that damned thing. He grimaced and looked away from the cold, unfeeling machinery.

The silence was deafening. The ultimate torture, he had heard somewhere before, was to be ignored by your enemies. Perhaps this was what that man was trying to do; torment him with the silence to get answers out of him. Answers he had no reason to have, and answers that Anthony had no reason to give. Nevertheless, this was in some ways worse than whatever the hell he had been forced to endure earlier…that shocking pain that was ever-present.

He pulled against the chains, however all his strength had been drained from him. Something about this room hampered his innate demonic powers; all except for his regeneration, which was their ultimate tool of torture. Much like when he fought against the Thousand Arms, all it did in this situation was remove their limiter for the amount of pain they are comfortable inducing upon him.

Finally, he heard footsteps outside the door, and the interrogator from the day before entered the room. He held a familiar posture, carrying the same foldable chair with him. "Subject Ninety-three Ten. How are you doing today?" he asked as he unfolded the chair and sat down.

"Drop the goddamned act…" Anthony responded harshly. His voice was hardly above a whisper, but spoken with all the strength he was capable of mustering at that moment. "We both know…you hate me…"

"Hatred does not mean I must be impolite, does it?" His words were tantalizing. Clearly he had been enjoying a good life outside of the facility in order to be in so chipper a mood. That, or he had some sort of enjoyment of tormenting the demonic inmates. Anthony struggled in his bindings again, but found the effort to be about as useful as it had ever been.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Let's pick up where we left off yesterday." The man folded his legs and opened the manila folder he had. In it was contained all their data on the nephilim…except who, or what, he was. "You broke free of our home for the demons. What next?"

Anthony's mind flashed back to that incident. He remembered the pain of forcing himself through the portal; the agony of having half of himself nearly ripped away from him. All at once, he saw everything the Devil Within was capable of doing for him, to him, but he kept it anyway. He landed on the cold ground beneath him, gazing at the precipitation that had pooled on the floor.

His hair was flushed completely white. Not only that, but it had grown even more, his shaved sides now covered in the silvery hair. He ran a hand through it, before realizing that he was still in the prison. The Vitruvian Units had noticed his existence, and turned to close in on the son of Sparda.

He looked along the would-be battlefield. It was a long, narrow hallway, which wouldn't be ideal for a combat scenario. He drew Ebony and Ivory, charging forth; after his fight with the Thousand Arms, he had a much better feel for the newly upgraded guns. Their bullets could be concentrated with demonic energy to produce bullets that did not penetrate, but rather flattened against their target and smashed them backwards.

It was this method that allowed the devil hunter to propel one of the Vitruvians away from him; planting several collapsing bullets all along the chassis of the mobile corpses. They had hardly time to react before Anthony had already returned to retreating from the cell. It was true that he was feeling somewhat rejuvenated thanks to his new Devil Arm, however that did not mean that he was at full power. He had a gut feeling that they had called back-up anyway, and did not wish to be overwhelmed by the reinforcements.

He charged forth through the winding hallways, hoping desperately that he had not made a wrong turn somewhere in the maze that the demonic prison was. Security was light, even considering what Glayve had said earlier; they did not expect any demons to escape. Surely they thought, even if they had, they would not have the strength to be able to put up a fight against two well-armed corpsebots.

His breaths were slow and controlled now. He needed to keep his heartbeat low so he could concentrate on finding a way out of the facility, rather than kill everyone within it. He saw another Vitruvian Unit along the hall, blocking his path. His traditional path anyway; he ran closer to the wall and leaped upon it, his feet carrying him along the undefined surface as they had no right to. His speed was all that held him against gravity now; the Vitruvian was not expecting a maneuver like that, and frankly, neither was the son of Sparda.

He planted a foot on the wall adjacent, and spun his body downward, landing back upon the ground. He continued his running from the bots; now there were three of him, plus any Anthony may have missed along his path. The corridors were long and narrow, dark yet straight. Navigating them was difficult only in trying to not backtrack by mistake.

Finally he ran into a part of the hallway that had looked somewhat different. There was a huge steel door that decorated the wall. He pulled himself to a halt, dust and smoke rising from where he screeched to a stop, and looked at the door. There was a bright light that could be seen from around the cracks of the door, however there were no windows, and he doubted that they were made for a demon to open.

"You're remarkably bad at answering these questions." Anthony was shocked back into reality by the man's words, spoken in a superior tone that made the prisoner's blood boil. "What did you find?"

"Your fucking…corpsebot factory…" Anthony admitted grudgingly, pulling again at the chains. "Where you twist people, living, innocent _people_, into those…things…!" He felt the man's hand grab his chin, pulling them face to face.

"The _Vitruvian Units_," he took careful pause to make sure that Anthony realized it was a correction to his statement, "are humanity's salvation."

"Those _corpsebots_," Anthony took a similar pause to the interrogator's own, "are where humanity ends and demonism begins." He spat in the man's eye, receiving a swift kick to the face as reward. "…and you know it."

"You are a mere demon. You've never had to fight for survival a day in your life." At this statement, the devil hunter let out a harsh, hoarse, laugh.

"What do _you_ know of suffering? What do you know of pain? I've been fighting these goddamn demons my whole life. You only know two yea—" Anthony's words were cut short by a shock.

"Two years where everything, _everything_, was taken from me," he shocked Anthony again, who screamed out, "my family, my friends, my city, my life…everything! You may have dealt with your own kind your whole life, but never having something, and losing it after having it for a lifetime, are two completely different sufferings!" With each word, he induced new, hellish pain upon his prisoner.

"So your solution…" the prisoner muttered, his strength nearly completely sapped from him due to the torment of the machine that had been shocking him. "…is to kill more innocent people…"

"If you were forced to choose," the interrogator said, turning to face the hunter, "between one human's life, and one million's, which would you choose?"

Kat's face came into Anthony's mind immediately. He remembered his fight with Vergil, how he'd chosen to protect humanity because of her. How he'd stood against his own kin for a human. How he'd stood against his brother's ideas for the salvation of the human race, for one girl. He had basically already made that choice.

"Depends on the human." His reply finally came, though the interrogator was not amused, evidenced by another shock that was sent through the hunter's body.

"You know nothing of humans." The man said, slapping Anthony.

"I dunno…they seem pretty similar to demons…" another slap. "What do you want out of me, anyway? To hurt me? To continue proving me right, by assaulting a defenseless being?" The man roared at the top of his lungs, spinning around and smacking Anthony. The force of the attack sent several of his teeth flying, though they quickly grew back in.

"You are very lucky to even be alive right now."

"Really? I would have said the opposite."

"Are you looking to die?"

"Are you looking to try?"

"Damn you!"

"Fuck you!" At Anthony's retort, the interrogator sat down, contemplating how to deal with the demon who'd regained his sharp tongue. The son of Sparda used this time to continue pulling at his bindings, though he did ponder what he saw that day in the facility.

There were corpses everywhere. They were fresh ones, too, by the smell of them. The hunter turned around and slammed the door shut, hoping that the Vitruvian Units were not smart enough to figure out that he was inside this room. Though if they had common sense, it was pretty simple to look at the marks he'd left on the floor, they were computers, so he banked on them not having it.

He took a brief pause, looking around the glowing room. It was like a cross between a laboratory and a manufacturing plant; conveyor belts leading into large vats of an unknown liquid, and several empty suits of armor along the walls led Anthony to believe that this was where they were manufactured. But why so close to a demonic prison? Maybe just for the convenience of having everything underground.

It was then he heard screaming. The screaming of a little girl accompanied by some metallic gears whirring along. Then she came into sight; she wore a pink dress, and her hair was completely blonde. He then looked at what she was right above, and saw there was something inside the vat. Anthony drew Ebony and Ivory and ran forward, but was too late. The girl's screams were quickly silenced as she fell into the vat. Whatever was in the vat with her seemed to liquefy alongside her.

Anthony ran his hand along the glass, looking at the girl's tormented, frail little body. This was what he found himself fighting so often. He clenched his other fist, thinking of Glayve, thinking of the Thousand Arms. How could the humans be so cruel as to do this to their own kind? How could they be as bad as the Demon King he'd dethroned?

Vergil's words came to mind. Their fight ran through his imagination like a movie. Had he been wrong, when his twin brother was correct? Was his victory the victory of evil? As he looked upon the girl who had by now halfway dissolved into the liquid, he furrowed his brows. Humans were not ready for their own leadership. They were not ready to be free. Not when things like this happened still happened under the eyes of the public.

The liquid in the vat had drained out with the liquefied girl. He heard more gears whirring around the laboratory he was in, as well as the clanking of metal. He turned to face a Vitruvian Unit that had found its way in. "No…" Anthony muttered, noticing the hook of the assembly line right behind it. "…you're…her…" He gritted his teeth as he looked upon the glowing center of the bot.

He turned tail and ran away. He couldn't fight her, not like this. Not when he knew that an innocent little girl was who he was attacking. He shoulder checked the solid steel door, bursting through the several inches of metal and rolling onto the ground. He slapped his hand on the ground and pulled himself forward, charging along the hallways once more. The three Vitruvian Units from before had found him again, and now he was being chased by four of them.

Things were definitely not going according to plan. The hunter breathed as normally as he could, however seeing the girl like that burned his mind. Burned his willingness to trust people. He felt scorned by the humans he had tried to protect, betrayed for betraying his brother.

He snapped back to reality again, this time of his own volition. The memory was a painful one, and he did not care to dwell too deeply upon the face of the little girl. "So what do you want?" His voice echoing out as something other than a response seemed to surprise the interrogator, though he quickly hid any emotion of shock he may have felt.

"I want many things, Subject. I want to return to the way things were, when demons were no more than a passive threat, a bedtime story." He stood up. "I want my family back. I want to know your name."

"How human." Anthony struggled again in his bonds.

"How demon." The interrogator leaned in. "So, would you mind telling me your name?"

"Yeah…" Anthony bashed his head against the interrogator's own, sending him backwards a few paces. Blood oozed forth from his forehead as he gazed upon the demon.

"You're a damnable nuisance."

"Look at me. I'm a demon. I'm already damned." He struggled against the chains. "And nothing your pathetic, twisted beyond demonic, fucking corpsebots can do about that fact." The interrogator shook his head. "Look at you. You're affiliated with murderers, murderers of innocent human beings, murderers of _children_, because you hate demons."

"I'm affiliated with who I need to be to exact my revenge."

"Revenge? Now that's something humans and demons share." He struggled. "Saw my own mom's heart get torn out by a bastard. So I killed him. Look at me now. Is this what you want to become?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "Release me."

"Hell no." the interrogator responded, smacking Anthony again. "You're a demon, a murderer, and a petty being overall. I refuse to release you back into society."

"Your loss." Anthony muttered, pulling again at his chains.

"So tell me, what did you do once you'd finally gotten out of the facility?"

"What do you think I did? I kept fucking running."

"Of course." the interrogator said, looking at his notes on the prisoner. "It was around the time of your escape that we had an attack, wasn't it? One that our 'glorious' superhero demon hunter did not attend to. Correct?" The sarcasm in the man's tone made Anthony sick.

"Guess your fuckin' corpsebots were good for something after all." The man smiled at his prisoner's reluctant tone, enjoying whatever little victory he could get.

Anthony's mind drifted back to the bright sun that had nearly blinded him when he finally got out from underground. He smelled the smoke in the air, the last stronghold of human population, the city of Empyrean, and he had found that the whole facility was underneath a graveyard. How…fitting, he thought as he shook his head.

He needed to get as far away from here as possible. His hair was a bright white color, and he was easily spotted in the masses of people, so he needed to rely on his own running ability for this day. He hopped the graveyard fence and began running through the trashed alleyways and tarnished streets of what was supposed to be the most glorious city remaining.

Then again, every city had its slums. Finally he wove his way through street after street until he had made it to a public market. He halted and hid in the shadows at the sight of a camera; ever since the demonic cameras of Limbo City, he had learned to be wary of any camera he saw, lest he be pulled into the demonic world of Limbo against his will.

Then an alarm went off. Loud and urgent, with each blare the hunter felt like his eardrums would burst. His mind raced with the possibilities of what the alarm meant, but all signs pointed back to one singular possibility: they had sounded an alarm that a demon, namely, him, had escaped their little stronghold beneath the city. He looked around the alleyway frantically, wondering what would come searching for him.

He looked back up to the cameras, which now scanned the street several times a minute. It would be difficult for any regular camera to pick up movement on a scale such as that, but Anthony knew that these were no normal cameras. They just weren't unique in quite the way that he had suspected they were. He swallowed a breath and ran forward, through the crowd. Damn the consequences, he thought, they were already onto him.

As he ran through the various alleyways that had connected the city at its core, he thought not about how he would fight back against whatever Vitruvian units came after him, nor did he think about how he would face any demons once he had made it out of the city. He was focused on the path ahead of him, the only certainty right now. That is, until he saw what the alarms were truly for.

Several dozen demons were below the bridge Anthony had found himself upon. There were people among them, being attacked by the monstrous beings; they were unlike the typical demon he had seen before. Unlike the traditional stygian he clashed blades with, these demons were akin to floating weapons and cloth; they hovered about their killing floor, slaughtering the innocent left and right.

The Thousand Arms Devil Arm formed into a chrome-colored gauntlet on his right arm as he gritted his teeth. He readied to leap, but was blocked by an invisible barrier formed of electricity, sending him backward. He grunted in pain as he rolled up to his feet, shaking off the dust that the ground had left on him. A safety measure that had been imposed; why let citizens fall to their death when you can shock them backward? Anthony was left watching as the citizens were killed, sadness and misery filling his mind.

Then he heard gunfire, and looked up at both sides of the bridge. There was nobody—nothing at all upon the bridge that was not him. Then he looked down upon the corpsebots, and his eyes widened when they engaged in combat with something that wasn't him. The creatures had stopped slaughtering the civilians and turned their attention to their attackers, and then the fight began.

Anthony stood up and made sure he had the ability to get away in case this was a hoax, something to catch him off guard. He wouldn't put it above them to do something like sacrificing civilians to demons, and it angered him at the very thought. He stayed, nonetheless, and watched while the civilians fled the scene, the Vitruvians fighting the incorporeal demons.

The demons used weapons such as scythes and scissors, crossing the field swiftly as gunfire went through them or ricocheted off of their weapons. Anthony began to wonder if these bots—or indeed, himself—had any weapon that could actually do some damage to these creatures. Finally, a blade flew into the side of a Vitruvian, cutting deep into its armor. The hunter above winced as he saw this, imagining the poor thing inside, but knowing that they couldn't feel pain.

The Vitruvian acted quickly, grabbing the scythe from its side. The demon let out an ear-splitting cry as the bot's rough metallic hand gripped the wooden staff that the monster had possessed. The hunter took careful note of this; these demons must have had some sort of connection to this world through the objects that they possessed.

The Vitruvian used the scythe, still attached to the incorporeal demon, as a weapon as it smashed away enemy after enemy. Anthony's attention was locked on this particular bot, as it seemed to be the best at what it did, which was surprising as the hunter thought they were programmed to fight demons from the start. The demons screamed while other bots picked up on this one's example, grabbing the weapons from mid-air and using them.

"Guess that's one way to interpret 'Devil Arm'..." Anthony chuckled a bit at his quip and the Vitruvian's actions, swiftly beating all the demons into submission using their own weapons. If he ever came into contact with this kind of a demon, he would remember to attack their possessed items rather than attacking the floating cloth.

"They are smart," Anthony looked up, no longer in his memory, at the interrogator who had just spoken. "Capable fighters, with moral judgment. How are they any less than human?" Anthony spat.

"You're preaching to a pagan." He shook his head. "One you're gonna burn anyway." The interrogator chuckled and sat down.

"You're funny, demon."

"And your good cop routine won't work." Anthony spat, but was ignored for the most part as the interrogator continued looking through his notes after wiping the spit off of his shoulder.

"I'll have to write down your thoughts on the Vitruvian units. If they anger you this much, perhaps they are an effective weapon after all."

"What?"

"Indeed. No foe is worse than an angered one." He took notes on Anthony's reaction to this statement.

"You...you are the real monster..." Anthony muttered, before receiving a swift kick to the jaw. Surprisingly spry for a suited-up man.

"Don't you dare..." he muttered, straightening his tie, "...compare me to a demon again." Anthony merely chuckled as he continued to remember his day free of captivity, ignoring the interrogator before him.

He had decided to find the man he'd heard of from the Lady of the Dozen, Cain. Going off of what she had told him, he would be the one that could help the Devil Hunter in his endeavors. Now that the alarms had stopped and the town's security had been redirected to containing the demons, he had a lot more freedom and personal security in what he was doing than before.

That was when he laid eyes upon the tavern "Dead Man's Respite". He looked in the pockets of his dirtied, destroyed jeans and shook his head. He could use a drink right around now, but he didn't have any money. Either way he could go in and get some information on this man, Cain. He opened the door into the bar, looking about at the people who drank and laughed. Upon the walls there was propaganda about the Vitruvians, stating how the people were protected by them and that Devil Hunters were obsolete. The odd thing about them, however, was that they were covered in graffiti.

He approached the bar, and saw the bartender giving him a weird look. "What's wrong?" he asked, before the man pointed at the fact he was half-naked, covered in dried blood, and had silver hair. He looked down and sighed; in addition to a drink, he needed a new coat. "I'm new in town, thought I'd find some business hunting demons." The bartender raised an eyebrow.

"You have seen all of the Vitruvian units running around out here, correct? If you were looking for somewhere to earn money, there is a city not too far from here—a few days sail over the Mediterranean."

"That's where I came from actually..." Anthony responded as he seated himself upon a stool. "A person known as the 'Lady of the Devil's Dozen' told me to find someone here named 'Cain'..." he looked upon the bartender's face; it was lit up, as though the name was a comfort he had not had in a long time.

"How is the Lady doing?" he asked as he cleaned out a glass mug and filled it with beer. He slid it over, Anthony catching it coolly as he answered.

"She is alright. Not very happy that they shut off all travel in and out of the cities."

"Ah, yes...government pigs thinking that machines can do a man's job." The tender sighed as he looked at the wall.

"Know where I can stay a night?" Anthony asked, as he looked at the poster. "I'm not exactly the most popular guy among the police force right now." The man laughed.

"No Devil Hunter is. They wish us gone for whatever reason." He stood up and cracked his neck. "You need a place to stay? Stay with us. We have plenty of room and board for a fellow Hunter, especially in these dark times for our trade." Anthony nodded. "What is your name?"

"D..." He thought back to Phineas' words, and warning of handing his name out to just anyone. "...Tony Redgrave."

"Dtony Redgrave?" the man laughed. "Alright Redgrave, finish your drink, and head down for some rest. We'll get you some clothes in the mornin'."

"Well, that's all the time I have for the day." Anthony looked up at the Interrogator as he stepped away. "As much fun as it is to watch you be silent for hours on end, I have other demons to speak with. Goodbye, demon." He opened the door and looked behind him; "Think hard on our conversation." He closed the door, electrocuting the prisoner one last time as he did.


	12. Mission Eleven: Antebellum

Mission 11 is here! Sorry I've been horrid about my schedule, I recently got a PS3 and have been enjoying the benefits of having Playstation Plus! Free games everywhere makes me a very happy person, but not a very attentive author haha. That said, this ending of the arc I've been writing for a while now was actually somewhat fun to write, as opposed to the rest of the arc. Maybe that's cause its finally done and I can start calling him "Dante" again haha. Commentary at the bottom!

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The alarm clock started buzzing on a day like any other. The old man's eyes opened, light pouring in from his windows as though heaven itself was pouring into his room. A dull, dead heaven that he had given up on seeing long ago, especially in today's world. He rolled over and smashed the alarm clock with a closed fist, shutting it up as he forced himself out of bed.

His whole body ached intensely as he sat up; his elbows wanted so desperately to buckle while supporting him out of his bed, and his knees were no better about keeping him standing. He pushed past these aches and pains, calmly looking out to the city that he now lived in. Empyrean, New Rome, whatever you called it, it was his home. Home for two years, ever since the Demon King was slain and the real world was crushed against the demon's own.

He shook his head, still weary even after eight hours of rest. With little haste, he strode over to his closet and sifted through the various dirtied work clothes. While he was in the upper echelons of society in Empyrean, he did not have any luxuries one would expect of the office. Quickly dressing himself in clothing that would be considered by the old world as quite common, he washed his face in the bathroom sink, letting the cool of the water awaken him.

Within another few minutes the man had gotten down to the streets of Empyrean, turning on his car. A flier for the latest Colosseum match was plastered to his windshield, and he sighed as he stared at the image of man, sword in hand, facing a demon with many tentacles. The image of the demon brought great anger into the man's mind. These...monsters had destroyed his life.

Some time ago, he had purchased a ticket to the Colosseum. Lazily, he checked the date of the match he was slated to see; the local devil hunting guild had taken it upon themselves to select a few champions to fight in the arena for today. That would certainly be interesting to see; he had no love for the devil hunters, and much hate for the demons...no matter who lost, he would enjoy the view.

He picked up a small landline phone, staring at it for a moment. He dialed a number quickly, and listened to the ringing while looking outside his window, out onto the remodeled Rome. In two short years, the people had taken to remodeling the place in order to keep out the demonic plague; a large wall was erected around the whole city, spotlights and guns lined the old aqueducts, and the buildings were fortified from the ground up with as much as they could be. Even now, however, the city was being rebuilt and remodeled. Truly, they hoped for a paradise.

"Icarus, what can I do for you today?" asked the man over the phone. Icarus never bothered to get to know many other people at his job, but he was well known among his clients and his fellow employees alike.

"I'm not going to be coming in today." He said plainly. His voice was scratchy from his years of chain-smoking, before he'd quit a year or so ago.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I have some tickets to the games today. Figured I'd have a look around town." He held the flyer in his hand, nearly crumpling it in some subconscious rage.

"Ah, I see. I'll clear it with the boss." The man replied. "You sure you want to do this?" Rather than answering, Icarus merely hung up the phone and walked out of his home, down to the streets below where the workers continued moving around resources, trying to fortify what they could. If the demons ever did attack within city limits, this wouldn't protect anybody.

He got into his car and saw a picture of a woman and a child it. The image brought a tear to the man's eye as he remembered what had happened so long ago...before the demons appeared. He held a much different occupation then, of course, than he did now...a family man. "Gracia..." he muttered, barely containing a sob.

The car roared to life when he turned the key. The man, set on his goal for the day, drove over to the Colosseum, which was crowded with almost everybody in the city trying to pack themselves in. The Colosseum, like the rest of Empyrean City, was remodeled and fixed up in order to endure for a longer time. Many stood against the renovation of a piece of history, but these fights were what brought in a good bit of revenue in this tarnished world. Vitruvian Units were on regular patrol of the area, making sure that no demons would be able to escape their confines in the arena.

As he walked toward those hallowed halls of the arena, the man could only wonder what the destruction of the Demon King had actually solved. Surely there was some reason the Order stood against him...but as he stood there at the entrance of the Colosseum, holding onto nothing but memories of his wife and daughter...the man held his doubts.

He heard a roar and spun to see an encaged demon with long, mantis-like forelegs for arms. The razor sharp blades on the end of each arm didn't seem to scare the silver-haired man on the other side, who poked at it for what seemed like humorous intent. Other than his hair, colored an odd black with white patches dotting around it, he had a short black coat on with deep red lining. He wore torn up jeans and had a pair of worn out, fingerless leather gloves. His blue eyes begot innocence, despite his obvious lack of any sort of the term.

"Hey Cain, check out this one. He's pretty sharp, wouldn't you say?" the man—no, the boy—chuckled. The demon growled and attacked, but found the effort futile. "Woah, hey. You'll get your shot in the arena, wait till then." How arrogant; today seemed worth it just to see him get shredded to bits by this particular demon, known for goring its prey before feasting.

It was given the fantastic name of "Prayer" for it's praying mantis appendages and mannerisms. Known to be quite powerful, as well. Something only a Vitruvian Unit would ever dare to take on in single combat. The man felt sorry for the kid playing with it in its cage, taunting it, angering it. His guts would be strewn across the floor for sure. The man then closed his eyes, his fists shaking in anger as he remembered how he knew so much about this particular breed of demon.

His daughter's heart upon its long, bladed arm, blood spurting in all directions while it stared him in the eye, chewing upon his beautiful wife's intestines. He knew he was next, he knew he had to be; the creature had slaughtered his family so easily, tossing him aside from his protective role on purpose, just to torment him. He called out Gracia's name, and reached out, only to find he had hit the cocky young man on the back of the head.

"Hey, watch out grandpa." he said, bringing cause to the former familyman to grit his teeth. At a distance, he could maybe tell himself that it wasn't his business to get involved in the devil hunter's and devil fighter's work, but up close, he knew that this kid was annoying. From his smug grin to his manner of speaking, everything was geared to piss off everyone in the vicinity. The man lost his sense of empathy for the kid; he was now perfectly okay if the kid did get his guts splattered across the stadium.

"Fuck you too, kid." he responded dryly, walking into the great Roman piece of architecture. There was a gladiatorial entrance and an audience entrance, and he was glad as could possibly be that he and the boy took two separate paths. One to enjoying a bloodsport that sickened him, and the other to fuel the bloodsport with his own blood. As the old man found his seat, he found himself wondering how he had gotten there.

That day his family had been killed, he was rescued at the very last minute. As he screamed in anger, doing his best to throw whatever part of his body he could into some form of attack against the demon, knowing its futility but wishing to die along his family; devil hunters only then stormed the place with guns blazing.

The problem with devil hunters is that they are human. They are imperfect, and they cannot save everybody. That is where the Vitruvian Units are different. They can detect demonic energy, they can track it, and they can slaughter it without any form of mercy. These monsters deserved no mercy. That was why they were here; the devil hunters, for their unreliable services, and the demons for their sins against creation.

His thoughts were interrupted as an enthusiastic announcer took the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he called out through a public announcement system that some townsfolk had purchased for this place, to truly add to the bloody event. "Welcome, welcome! One and all to the Empyrean Colosseum!" Great, they even butchered the name. He should have expected this. "Today we have a few great matches lined up for you, folks, but let's begin by saying that we are in for a real treat today! A Devil Hunter who had crossed the Mediterranean Sea, blessed by the Lady of the Devil's Dozen, Tony Redgrave will be gracing us with his presence tonight!"

Among devil hunting celebrities, the man was aware of very few. Though the Lady of the Dozen was a name known far and wide throughout this post-apocalyptic world. One of the strongest devil hunters there were, rumors circle the world that she could have defeated the Demon King were he still alive to be defeated.

She was the greatest of her craft, something that the man found he had to respect about her, even if the profession of devil hunting was barbaric in and of itself. He preferred the Vitruvian Units to do the job, and keep the people safe from the hordes of demons. His opinion was biased, however, and he would acknowledge it sooner than any other. He used to be a devil hunter himself, a fairly good one at that.

He had never seen the true face of a demon before that night, however. Never known the horrors he had gotten himself involved with when the demons acknowledged him as an opponent. "Don't pretend to be surprised, Icarus," the demon chided as it held Gracia's head, impaled from the neck to the crown, on its left blade. "You flew towards the sun...what were you expecting to happen?"

"What were you expecting to happen..." Icarus snapped back to reality upon hearing that phrase, looking to his left to see a gruff looking man talking with his friend. "...they paired up a green soldier with a Butcher. Of course he was gonna lose." The man looked down to the Colosseum's floor, where a man lay bloodied upon the ground before a larger demon. It looked like a hulking suit of armor, standing at least two men tall with an orb of energy in its center. Upon its arms were bloodied, sharpened buzzsaws that were used to cleave through the weakling's defense. Icarus could only sneer.

He then exhaled in some effort to calm himself, and shook his head. The Vitruvians had nobody to lose, they were vigilant protectors...and they were strong enough to take on some of the more unique and powerful foes that crossed humanity's path. Another reason why the people deserved Vitruvians as protectors. The man's blood boiled as he remembered what happened next, watching the demon depart the battlefield, having won a month of being torture free.

He remembered that the creatures had finally finished feasting upon his family. He had been incapacitated by a swift strike to his gut earlier in the evening, preventing him from fighting back at all. He remembered the demons standing above him, coated in his wife and kid's gore...they might as well have already had his heart.

In his sadness, he had not realized how violently he had begun shaking. Then he heard a voice behind him, calling out. But not to him. "Red! Grave! Red! Grave! Red! Grave!"

The crowd went wild as the man stepped out from his side of the arena; it was the boy from earlier. A little kid like this was given the blessing of one of the most powerful devil hunters there were? The thought seemed somewhat ludicrous to him, perhaps demons had become somewhat weaker over time. He chuckled, and wondered how the kid would fare against the Prayer he would face.

Earlier...

When Anthony had awoken, he stepped into a bar that was relatively empty. Most of the devil hunters that frequented the place during the nights were off on some dayjob to get some currency, now that the demon hunting business had all but dried up. On the bar there was a package that had his name plastered on it; "Redgrave, Anthony".

He had taken on a job as a deliveryboy for his time here. He would have gone insane had he idled, and this way he had a way of exploring the town in a way that wouldn't arouse suspicion. While Cain searched for information on Kat's whereabouts, as well as those of the Seven Sins' at night amongst the drunken gossip of roudy demonslayers, Anthony got to enjoy the experience of riding around town on a motorcycle, talking with the people about town and finding her on foot.

Neither method seemed like it would work, but it was better than nothing. Anthony picked up the package, moving to open it before he heard a voice behind him. "Long time no see, _Dante_." The nephilim spun to see a familiar sight: "We always seem to meet in bars, don't we?" Anthony was gazing upon the one and only Sloth. "Listen, kid. Pride told me to tell you to keep your nose out of the Vitruvian bot's business, or else we'll end your happy little freedom trail here."

"Oh yeah?" Anthony responded, drawing Ebony, "How are you gonna do that?"

"We know your _name_, Dante. Both of them, and it's an easy matter to get a Vitruvian in here...he'd stir up enough ruckus to get you arrested, huh?" The Sin somehow knew he and Cain were looking into the Vitruvians as well...how? Why did it concern the Sins, anyway?

"Yeah, well how about you tell me why you give a shit?"

"What a bothersome topic." Sloth responded, turning around and walking away.

"Get back here!" Anthony aimed his gun at the Sin, "Where's Kat? What's with these corpsebots? Wait!" who refused the order and retorted:  
"What a bothersome person...who knows why Pride values your existence..." With that, he left Anthony and his box alone in the bar. The nephilim sighed deeply, before sitting on the barstool and holstering Ebony. He stared at the box, and finally opened it, revealing to him several other packages with addresses and a map with each address pinpointed, as well as some advance payment in the form of ten dollars, in case they were needed.

The parking lot outside of the bar was just as deserted as the bar itself, save for the one motorcycle reserved for Anthony. He sat on it, placing all the packages in the saddlebags, noticing something extra in the left bag; a flyer to the Colosseum, and an extra package with a golden star on it. An extra last-minute delivery? Anthony looked around the package and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be flustered by the Sins. He'd tell Cain about his encounter later. He picked up the map and looked at it briefly, studying the new layout of Rome, "Empyrean", and figuring out his route. Finally, he stowed the map with the rest of the packages, and revved the vehicle up, taking off into the streets. The wind blew through his hair as he swerved through traffic, letting the morning's events roll through his mind.

He had been working with Cain for a week by now as a deliveryboy. He was a standard mailman, there was no limit to the variety of things he delivered about town; mail, packages, condoms, medicine, drugs—anything that the company could make a profit out of. However, when he and Cain discussed what the terms of his service were, they both agreed to investigate two things: one, the Vitruvian Units that patrolled town, and the Seven Sins concerning Kat's whereabouts.

Of all the investigations to halt, Sloth did not tell him to stop searching for them. Why not put restrictions on that, and not the investigation into the Vitruvian Units? Before he could ponder this any longer, he came upon a ramp that he simply could not resist. He swerved over to it, coming upon it with the greatest speed he could muster out of the bike.

In a moment, he felt what it was like to fly, the motorcycle soaring through the air with the greatest of ease. Traffic mattered little to him while he was among the birds; he felt, for the first time in a long time, truly free of the world. Then, like a cruel dictator, gravity took hold and the hunter hit the ground once more, letting out a grunt, though the bike lost no speed. He eventually came upon the first client's home, delivering a parcel that was small, yet somewhat heavy. He found little surprise in the client unwrapping a gun; a submachine gun, as well. Anthony accepted his payment, and carried on his route through the town, wondering how long before the Empyrean government muscled in on courier duties as well.

Finally he had delivered all of the packages; all of them, except for the star-studded one. He drove up to the home that was addressed on the package; it wasn't a particularly outstanding place, nor was it anywhere very bad. It looked like an incredibly average apartment complex, nothing too special about the beige paint and the architecture that fit with the rest of the city's "Neo Roman" style.

"What makes you so special, huh?" Anthony asked as he pulled out the package, walking up to the door and knocking on it. Nobody answered, leaving Anthony to listen to the sounds of nature around him. He sighed at the sound of the bird's chirping, and knocked again. This time, the door opened, and Anthony's jaw dropped at who he saw.

"I've been expecting you." The small woman said, hood down to show her beautiful, short brown hair.

"...no way...Kat...?" He was breathless as he stared at what seemed to be a ghost. This was too easy; the Sins were doing this to torment him.

"My package?" Anthony looked down at Kat's words, and let out an audible "Oh!" as he handed it to her. She unwrapped it, revealing a small necklace. "This is a beautiful thing that I ordered from the Dead Man's Respite. Don't you think it's nice?"

"Uh...yeah..." Anthony muttered, still trying to think of what to say. It had been weeks since they'd seen each other, but the way she acted you wouldn't believe it had been a day. "...are you...okay?" He struggled with each sentence, stumbling about with some fear that he would wake up and realize this was not the person he thought it was.

"You're wondering where the Sins are, and how I escaped." Kat surmised, Anthony weakly nodding his head. "They had a hunch that I would be enough to keep you off the trail of the Vitruvian Units, I think. They were talking about keeping you away from that business."

"Yet they don't mind me hunting them?"

"What they don't know is how much more powerful we are as a team, Dante." Kat turned around, ignoring Anthony's question. He followed her into her house, and saw several flyers for the tournament plastered around the room. "The Colosseum is a place for a warrior to test their skills against many an opponent."

"Yeah, one of the most famous arenas there are." Anthony noted.

"The winners, rather, survivors, get to go meet the Government in charge of the city." She looks at the table, with a single plate full of food on it. "...most are never seen again, often assigned to high-level tasks."

"You think the strongest are being turned into corpsebots."

"Exactly. Why not take the cream of the crop, and make them even better?"

"So, why mention this to me?"

"If you want to keep going after the Vitruvians, you need to win in the arena today, Dante." Kat smiled at Anthony's reaction.

"Don't I need to be registered?"

"I thought you were a Devil Hunter, Dante." Kat sat down at the table. "Couldn't one of your allies get you signed up?" With that, she picked up a fork beside the plate, and took a bite.

"I guess Cain could...I'd have to call..."

"The sooner the better, Dante. Sooner, the better." She took another bite. "We don't want the Sins catching wind of this."

"Thanks for the tip, Kat..." Anthony muttered. A buzzing could be heard for a few moments, before he realized it was his phone.

"Goodbye Dante."

"See ya—hey, why don't you come to the Dead Man's Respite? We should stay together."

"The Sins are probably watching me, Dante. They'd have an easier time catching you breaking the rules if I was with you." Kat's answer made Anthony sigh. She was right; if the Sins caught wind of his endeavors, he would be arrested pretty quickly. He picked up his cell phone and flipped it open, answering.

"Hey boss," he said casually, walking toward the door.

"Tony! Hey, just checking on your route, since you aren't back yet."

"About that...how did you find Kat?"

"...find her? I haven't yet. Have you?"

"You had a delivery for her in my saddleba..." Anthony stopped. The Sins really did expect him to stop if he found Kat. "...anyway, I need a ticket for the Colosseum."

"To watch it? That'll come out of your paycheck."

"Not to watch it...to fight in it."

"That's a different story altogether, man."

"Hey, it'd be a big favor to me."

"Among others. Alright, I'll meet you in front of the Colosseum." Anthony hung up and ran to his motorcycle; this was his best bet for getting anywhere closer to the place the Vitruvian Units were made. Then maybe he could find out why the Sins were so interested in their production.

The Colosseum wasn't very far away from Kat's place, and he soon met up with Cain. The two shook hands and Cain handed him a ticket. "For what it's worth, kid...it was nice having a deliveryboy like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The only slot I could get you in was against a Prayer."

"A what?"

"A class of demon that sprouted up on this side of the mediterranean. Shit, these things evolve like normal creatures." With that, a roar could be heard, and the hunter turned to face a large demon, with mantis-like forearms. He chuckled a bit while Cain kept his distance.

"Hey Cain, check out this one! He looks pretty sharp, wouldn't you say?" The Prayer tried to leap at the boy, but was too restrained. "Woah, hey, you'll get your shot in the arena. Wait till then."

"Stop fooling around kid." Cain replied, and Anthony scoffed. "They are a formidable class of demon; fast, strong, and able to cleave through most kinds of armor. Even your crappy jacket."

"Hey, I had a better crappy jacket before I came here." Anthony rebutted, before walking around the cage of the creature. "Still a fodder demon, nothing too bad—ow!" He turned to the side to see he'd been smacked in the face by an old man. "Hey, watch out grandpa."

Just with a cursory glance over his eyes, Anthony could tell the man had seen much. He was old and in pain, clearly someone who'd suffered from loss. "Fuck you too, kid." came the man's response, in a scratchy, smoky voice. Anthony rolled his eyes and stood out of the way, continuing to the gladiatorial entrance. He wasn't quite sure what the old man's problem was, but he couldn't let it bother him; he had to prepare for his match. To prepare to meet a Vitruvian.

Some time had passed before finally it was his turn to walk out onto the battlefield. There were several that waited alongside him, but many more had come out here to die against incredible opponents like Butchers. What he wasn't expecting was the crowd to be chanting his name; the announcer then introduced him like so: "Anthony Redgrave, Warrior of Limbo City! Blessed by the Lady of the Dozen, he is here to fight for glory!"

Wow, Cain went all out on the introduction. "And in this corner, the Prayer Demon! Don't get this one confused with a corporate priest, folks, this one doesn't prefer your heart for dinner!" The large demon from before took the field. "Okay, yes it does. Now let the battle commence!"

Anthony drew forth his guns, Ebony and Ivory as the demon leapt forth, easily closing the distance between them. It swiped at him, nearly bisecting him a few times; were it not for his incredible reflexes he would be confetti already. Anthony backpedaled away from the creature, using Ebony and Ivory's new power to crush bullets against foes to keep it at some distance. He holstered the guns and drew Rebellion from his soul just in time to catch the Prayer's forelegs just short of skewering him.

"Alright asshole, back off!" Anthony muttered, pushing back on the creature and stabbing forth with his broadsword. The creature evaded the attack, but only just barely. It took its chance to counter the nephilim's attack, slicing along his arm. The wound wasn't deep enough to do any real harm, and the scratch stitched itself up as soon as the Prayer had drawn its razor foreleg across it.

Anthony planted his foot into the ground, drawing up dust and granting him a tether to spin and slash at the Prayer for a counter-counterattack. Hit by Rebellion's sharper side, the Prayer flew forward in pain, but quickly regained its balance and pounced upon the hunter. Anthony charged forth; "Ophion!" He cried, "Angel Lift!" The blade of Rebellion took on the form of the Demonic Whip Ophion, and shot forth to the mid-air mantis demon.

Drawing upon his angelic strength, Anthony pulled on the whip. Instead of pulling the target to him, as the demonic pull did, he pulled himself to the target. He released the power of Ophion when he had significant momentum, and pulled Rebellion back for a full swing attack in midair. They clashed, though hard enough to force each other out of the others way. Anthony landed into a roll while the creature face planted into the ground.

Anthony stood up, turning to face the demon on the ground. It had suffered greatly from that blow, but it was not about to give up on the fight. It stood up, a black blood oozing from where Rebellion had been drawn across it. "Sure you wanna keep going?" Anthony taunted, showing his middle finger to the demon. "I think you'll find me a cut above the rest."

The demon leaped again, but with far less strength than it had before. The hunter easily sidestepped his foe, laughing a bit as the creature slammed its bladed forelegs into the ground. As it struggled, Anthony placed his foot on what he assumed was the creature's rear, and kicked with enough force to send the creature flying forward—sans forelegs. Blackened blood sprayed from the severed limbs and the stubs on the demon's arms alike while the devil hunter slowly approached. The crowd roared his name, and he adopted a sickeningly cocky smile. "Game over." He said, before bringing the heavy sword down on the demon, ending it.

The crowd roared around Icarus as they watched what had at first seemed to be an ordinary kid rip apart a high-level demon like a Prayer. The old man merely frowned and sat forward, wondering what had actually happened. This was no simple human, not the way he moved. Devil Arms were powerful, and some were known to augment a user's own physical prowess, but not to the level this kid displayed.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, prompting him to pick it up. "I'm off duty right now." He started, gruffly.

"You might want to consider staying on-duty, for now." the voice answered. Though he was well-known and respected in his company, he was certainly nowhere near the top of the food chain in his company. "Anthony Redgrave, in the Colosseum. You just saw his performance, did you not?"

"Definitely super human, sir." Icarus responded, narrowing his eyes at the boy who finished his foe at last. "But one battle can not be considered an adequate test of his power."

"You're right..." the voice responded, but then Icarus' shoulders were touched, by two different people. He spun to see a young girl sitting beside a lanky young man.

"The kid is more than what he seems." The girl said coldly, and Icarus turned to face the kid in the arena, before looking back. "We've put together something that will show, without a doubt, he is super human...even, say...demonic."

"What do you mean?"

"A Prayer is a dangerous thing, Icarus. Take note, however...they travel in packs." the man answered, and the two looked back toward the arena, taking the old man's gaze with them.

Anthony stood proud in the middle of the stadium, having struck down the demon that opposed him. He found himself wondering if this was all it took to get to see how the Vitruvian Units were made. He rested Rebellion on his shoulders, looking out to the crowd, wondering if Kat was out there somewhere, watching him kick ass.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The great Anthony Redgrave!" The announcer called out, and the hunter took a bow. "We received a request from the crowd for an encore! Mr. Redgrave, think you can handle some more?"

"You kidding? Throw Hell at me, I'm ready!" Anthony called out in response, much to the crowd's delight. He turned around and looked at the gates that the next demon would appear from. "And now! Due to popular demand, and the need to get rid of these things, Anthony Redgrave versus...!" The gates opened, but what the hunter saw was something that made even his eyes widen. The crowd fell silent as they rushed out and took the field.

Several dozen Prayers took to the battlefield, all swarming around their opponent. "There seems to have been a mistake!" The announcer called out, "Why are there so many Prayer Demons? Somebody get the Vitruvian Units on the field!" Anthony had taken a largely evasive stance, dodging every attack that came his way while he formulated a plan of action. Just one of these things had the speed and skill to pose a threat; he was dealing with a mob. This would be a challenge, he thought as he ducked under one demon's blade, and flipped over a second's attack.

He landed on his feet and pulled his upper body as far back as he could, playing the deadliest game of limbo ever with one of the Prayers. As quick as he assumed the position, he exited it and drew forth the power of the Thousand Arms. He would need a thousand to duel this many creatures, although he still did not have an exact understanding of how the weapon actually worked.

Drawing on his memory of his battle with the Thousand Arms demon, he remembered it had absolute control of all the bladed weapons in its vicinity. As the Devil Arm took the form of a silver gauntlet on his wrist, he considered that that was the demon's power; controlling weapons. He focused on controlling the blades of the Prayers, however found another barrage of attacks to dodge as his answer to that. The Thousand Arms did not seem to be controlling much of any of their weapons.

He sidestepped one attack, somersaulted beneath another, and found himself blocking a third with the Thousand Arms' physical form, the gauntlet. He pushed back on the demon and backpedaled in order to keep all of the demons in his line of sight. "C'mon..." he muttered under his breath as the demons continued to come at him in droves. "...how did I work you the first time?" He thought back to when he had used it.

When he defeated the Thousand Arms and was granted its power, he tried to remember how exactly he'd used it. Did he use one of the weapons nearby? He hopped over the next demon to attack, kicking off of the broadside of its foreleg and launching himself above the Prayers below him. He landed and spun, before he thought of one thing: the Thousand Arms wasn't manipulating weapons in the area, it was summoning them from the ether!

He spun through a plethora of attacks, gracefully dancing through the blender of enemies, before he ended up unharmed on the other side. He motioned his hand at the demons, and much to their surprise, and his own, a sword fired out from his hand. It slammed into one demon, impaling it straight through its heart. "The Thousand Arms! Now I get it! I have a thousand weapons at my disposal!" He played with the gauntlet a bit. "You are a handy little guy."

The demons flew at him again, and he summoned two broadswords via the Thousand Arms. He ducked and dodged through their attacks, before slamming his foot into the ground and spinning to slash at the monsters once more. Upon impact however, the blades shattered against the Prayer, tossing it aside but leaving the surprised Anthony open to counter attack.

A blade pierced his heart, bringing about many cries from the crowd. The Prayers surrounded Anthony, blades at the ready, and the one that held him on its arm was ready to feed him to them. Calmly, the hunter drew Ivory, and pointed it straight between the demon's eyes. The sound of gunshots filled the arena as he splattered the demon's brains across the ground behind it, before shooting off the creature's arm and spinning to face his foes.

As they struck at him, he used the new weapon in his gut to fight back. Impaled in him or no, it was still an incredibly sharp weapon he used as he spun to deal damage. The cries of the crowd had died down, but the hunter knew not why. Not until he heard gunshots that weren't his.

He had been standing in the center of the crowd of Prayers when chrome-armored soldiers descended into the field, shredding his foes with lead. The hunter dropped to the ground before he could get hit, but stood to his full height to greet them. "About time you got here," He said, though the bots did not respond to him at first. "Silent type, huh? How annoying. Then again, you are all pieces of unholy crap." He pulled the demon's arm from his chest, before realizing why the crowd had all shut up.

"He's alive." Icarus observed, standing up. He remembered keenly how his wife and child were murdered, the memory burning at him. They were dead from the attack, and these creatures were about to have their way with this kid too...but he stood up. He fought back. He may not have been dead, but there was one sure thing he was.

"Turns out he's a demon after all. How bothersome." The man behind Icarus remarked, while the old man had been calling his boss back on his cell.

"Call in the Vitruvians...Anthony Redgrave is a demon masquerading as a human."

"I knew it." Within moments of the call, the Vitruvians stormed the stage, and destroyed the Prayers that were attacking Anthony. He pulled the appendage out of himself when he suddenly realized his secret was out.

Three Days Later...

"...so it was you who made the call." the prisoner observed as the Interrogator, Icarus, paced the room.

"Yes. I must say, Subject, that you are quite the specimen. Able to blend among the humans seamlessly. You've been at this for a while." He held his finger over a button. "You command great powers, for a demon."

"And you command a lot of nothing, for a crotchety stuck-up old man." It was then that a tremor could be felt. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Icarus asked, sitting down once again. "You're getting no backup, and why would you? Your facade as a devil hunter is done. You've lost." The trembling of the ground continued.

"You know, I think I will tell you my name." Anthony muttered, summoning the strength to stand up on his two legs. This course of action intrigued Icarus. "After all this time, you've hated the demons, and most of all, you hated the two who defeated the Demon King and unleashed this Hell upon us..."

"What are you talking about?" Icarus seemed clearly worried about what was going on.

"You wonder my name, you wonder who I am. You want to know so you can have control over me, but I've learned that there is no such power." He chuckled. "Human misinformation at its finest, eh?" The door behind Icarus was kicked down, and several troops stormed the room. Cain strolled in casually, shooting the chains free from the ceiling. Icarus merely stood flabbergasted. "All this time, I've been luring you out; you, your corpsebots, and the truth."

"We're ready to go when you are."

"So after three days of torture, of pain and anger on both of our parts, Icarus," Anthony said, walking out with the soldiers. The interrogator was no match for the soldiers, and the soldiers knew he was not their true enemy, and thus held no reason to kill him.

Before they had disappeared from the door, the hunter turned to face Icarus one last time. "In case we never meet again, I'll tell you. I'll tell you, and you can be happy with that."

"Just tell me...what your name is..." Icarus muttered with murder on his breath. Strange time to be making a threat. Anthony merely chuckled.

"My name is Dante."

* * *

The goal for this week's chapter was to provide a definite ending to the arc I started. This whole arc was not a part of the initial story, which is just another way of seeing how the story's evolved. As much as I hated writing the arc, I have to say that for the most part it seems to have worked out pretty well. There is some writing I'd like to go back and correct, maybe, but I think I did well.

In truth, the arc started based off of the initial reveal trailers of DmC, which is why I had Dante lose his iconic coat to get a new one. That will happen a few times as the series goes on. I wanted to somehow connect the trailers to my story, and thus we get this arc.

As many of you have noticed, Icarus is the mysterious interrogator I've been antagonizing the past two chapters. This time we get to see him in a slightly different light; the reason he's such a jerk being because his family was killed by demons.

The number one thing to realize about any argument-both sides think they are right. Is it right to sacrifice humanity to get demonkilling supersoldiers? Would more be saved that way? Is it worth the cost?

If you liked the story, comment on it! If you wanna keep up, follow it, and if you really enjoyed it, shoot me a fav! I always enjoy reading feedback from my readers, even if I don't always get back to you very promptly.

That said, I promise to try and get my act together and update every wednesday again starting next wednesday-as promised! See ya then!


	13. Mission Twelve: Before the Fall

Early update this week! Mostly 'cuz of the hiatus!  
As always, follow if you wanna see what happens next, fav if you like the story, and leave a comment telling me how I'm doing!  
Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

"Finished playing around outside, I see." Dante remarked as he and the squadron of devil hunters casually walked through halls that contained many tormented souls, of human and demon alike. Their screams could still be heard, however they were not the concern of Cain's troops, nor Dante and Cain themselves.

"Hunting down a building that doesn't exist takes time, kid." Cain's reply was casual, as though this were a conversation that he would have any normal day over some tea. "Besides, the Lady would only recruit a demon if she had a good reason to. Though you may be one of them, it's nice to have their power on our side once in a while."

"Glad to see not everyone is a racist." The devil hunter's replied with a sarcastic tone, but Cain ignored it and caught up to him and handed him two pistols that he recognized instantly.

"We got a good look at how they work while you were away."

"Which is that they don't work for anyone but me."

"They rely on demonic energy, but you already knew that." Cain's words caused the nephilim to nod. "But we've got a present in the works for you; a gun that works similarly to these beauties."

"Nothing could ever replace Ebony and Ivory." Dante's responded as they continued down. In truth he would have been elated to hear him say something along the lines of making even more upgrades for the pistols, but he supposed that the blunt rounds were good enough for now. Being able to use bullets without piercing the opponent, and thus making them into blunt weapons, was an incredibly useful ability.

The group continued forward through the prison unhindered. It was scary how well Cain had done his job of distracting their foes, thought Dante as they traversed the darkened hallways of the institution in which he'd been trapped for the past two days. "Well I wouldn't say it would replace your pistols, but it could be a useful tool. I wouldn't ignore adding to your arsenal." Cain had finally responded once they rounded a corner.

The prison yard was now visible through a window, revealing the base architecture of the demon's prison. This was not the same place that he had been trapped in the first time; it looked as though it were a gigantic cathedral constructed during the Gothic era. Gargoyles and rosaries dotted the landscape before the Son of Sparda, and the courtyard was filled with green grass. A beautiful ray of sunshine shone down upon the courtyard.

"What a place to keep a bunch of demons." Dante noted, deciding to change the subject from weaponry while he gazed upon the art of the earth. He walked up to the window and gazed down upon the courtyard, upon the hues of flowers that were planted upon the ground. "Who would suspect a cathedral like this?"

"Had us fooled for a while, too." Cain added as he stood by the window. "As admirable as this place is, it isn't the the best idea to stop now." Dante nodded and smirked. Despite the demons being part of the world now, had it really changed so much? He was still running and hiding from everyone, fleeing the world that he sought to enjoy...or in this case, save. "Got a real treat ready for us, too. The first working helicopter since the Limbo Incident."

"You're kidding," Dante turned to face the man, "you got an actual, working helicopter?"

"Well we weren't sitting around with out dicks in our hands." Cain chuckled and faced the men who had accompanied him. "Alright, it's time to get going." With that, they continued down the window-ridden hallway.

"Where are all of the guards?" Dante found himself asking. This was too easy; while they had not thought any demons capable of escaping, it was utterly foolish of them to not have a contingency plan.

"We had them diverted to the Colosseum. Turns out a demon breakout is something that freaks out the system!" Cain chortled at this, and the son of Sparda shook his head. That laugh reminded him of someone, but he couldn't put his finger on just who that someone was. The group rounded another corner and started to descend the stairs.

Then a sharp noise filled their ears; like gears grinding together. Like nails on a whiteboard, the devil hunters looked around erratically. "You're sure everyone was diverted?" Dante asked as he drew Ebony and Ivory, relishing their cool, familiar feel in his hands. Cain pulled the machine gun he had strapped to his shoulder, while the two soldiers continued to wield their similar arms.

"We couldn't guarantee a hundred percent of them, no..." Cain muttered, before looking at Dante. "...your friend must have called in more security."

"Sounds like him." Dante scoffed.

"We'd better get going then. Our ride will be here soon, and I don't want it to be destroyed by random corpsebots." The hurried down the stone stairs, taking on a defensive formation. Dante was in the middle, while Cain took point and the soldiers took the rear. Though he was a capable warrior on his own, he was placed as higher priority due to this being his rescue mission; a worthless endeavor if he was just defeated and captured again.

Finally their boots met grass as they stormed the courtyard. Surrounded by the castle-like cathedral, and with nothing but the sound of gears grinding around them, the devil hunters took their cover, readying themselves for any enemy that would come out of the wood-works. For a few moments, Dante had considered the thought simply fighting the enemy would have been much better than this; waiting for the enemy to show themselves. He was tempted to call out to them, but this was a retreat, not a war, even he saw that one.

Finally, a new sound could be heard. At first the hunters greeted it with a sort of happiness; finally, something different than the constant gear-grinding, ear-piercing sound that would have bothered even the most steeled of warriors. Unfortunately, the sound that they heard was not one that was to be celebrated. Dante peered over his cover to see something truly horrifying; before him were not dozens of Vitruvian Units, not hundreds...but what seemed to number in the thousands of the robotic monstrosities.

"You're fuckin' me..." he muttered, causing the other hunters to peer over their cover as well. The devil hunting organization tied to the Dead Man's Respite was not an army; they were a mercenary task force that numbered in the small dozens. Allocating more than three people to one job was a vast expense of resources, which was one of the problems of devil hunting; few humans had the physical ability to keep up with a demon.

"With this many corpsebots..." Cain muttered, checking his ammunition, "...you'd think the kidnappings and death toll would be better publicized..."

"With the world in this state of chaos, they didn't even need to cover it up. They just had to say that the demons had taken them..." Dante muttered in response, with a daunted glance at his pistols. The memory of taking on that army of demons back in Limbo City came to his mind, however he now realized how incredibly weak those things were. They probably weren't even real demons, come to think of it.

The self doubt took hold for a moment, before he shook his head and peered back over his cover; the Vitruvian Units approached, but slowly. Were they ordered to capture them alive, perhaps? Dante's grip tightened on Ebony and Ivory, and he prepared for the worst. The other devil hunters were equally ready, though for anything other than death, they were not. "Hey kid, the ETA on that chopper is a few minutes. They're almost here."

"Don't think that helps us much here." Dante responded, but smirked anyway. "Just like the movies though, huh? Always wanted to be evac'd from a hot zone." Cain chuckled at the comment, before aiming his gun.

"Don't know if we'll make it out like they do in the movies."

"But damned if we don't try." one of the soldiers responded, and bumped fists with the other soldier. Dante swallowed and nodded.

He held Ivory up, lining her barrel up with the faceplate of one of the Vitruvian Units, and pulled down the trigger. However, instead of a bullet exploding forth from the barrel, reality seemed to shatter around the nephilim in a way that was almost familiar to him. In an instant, he was no longer among the devil hunters who'd saved him, nor the Vitruvian Units who threatened him.

Standing before him was the Sin of Pride, gazing at the area where the Vitruvian Units stood. "Pathetic, Son of Sparda." He stated, unfolding his arms. Dante aimed Ebony and Ivory at him, baring his teeth.

"You...what are you doing here?" He looked around at where he was. They were standing on a floating piece of ground, while all around him was a surreal cloud. "...where is here?"

"I think both answers are pretty clear, Son of Sparda." Pride turned around to face the boy. Contrary to the first time they met, he no longer looked like an Oni; his powers had clearly been awakening over the time he'd been on Earth.

"This place..." Dante looked around him, realization coming over his face. "...it...it can't exist. Limbo disappeared when the Hellgate was destroyed!" Pride chuckled at Dante's logic.

"You aren't too far off the mark. When the Hellgate was destroyed, much of the power of the demons vanished from the planet, especially those who relied on Limbo's strength." He motioned around him. "However, Mundus was not the only demon capable of projecting his own world over reality. This is Limbo, but this isn't Mundus' Limbo." He smiled evilly. "This is my Limbo, and while it can not extend the world over, I have it projected over the whole city of Empyrean."

"So you can project your own Limbo..." Dante muttered, looking around at the alien realm around him. He had seen demons controlling Limbo before, like Lilith who had complete control over the Devil's Dalliance. However, he'd never seen any demon other than Mundus actually be able to project their own pocket dimension. "...and I'm here why?"

"Only the son of an impudent demon like Sparda would ask something like that." Pride responded. "I saved your life from those tin cans; you are physically exhausted at this point. Too weak to take them on due to days of torture." He paused.

"Then why save me?"

"Because I still wish to kill you myself."

"Well here's your chance." Dante held out Ebony and Ivory, aimed at the Sin's head.

"No. Like I said, you are too physically weak to take on the tin soldiers." He looked at the hunter. "I want to face you at your fullest potential, when you're done holding yourself back. Killing you while you are too exhausted to do anything about it...it is not only a foolish move when the goal is considered, but a wasted opportunity."

"So that's what I am. An opportunity."

"Just like your father. Impudent, moronic, and foolish to the highest caliber." Pride shook his head in shame at the nephilim before him. "You see yourself as more important than you are. 'I killed the Demon King, I should be the most feared thing on Earth' blah blah blah."

"Hey fuck you, asshole." Dante fired Ivory, but her bullets were easily evaded by the Sin.

"Yes, Son of Sparda. That is all you are; an opportunity. An opportunity to affirm my power, power beyond the slayer of kings," He glanced away from Dante, at the realm around him. "Power that counts for nothing if I kill you at anything less than your full potential."

"I think you'll find I'm a good deal more powerful than you take me for." With that, he holstered Ebony and Ivory, drawing forth the power of the Thousand Arms. It took the shape of a metallic gauntlet as it usually did, a nice decoration on his arm. He closed his eyes and focused on the power of the Thousand Arms; he couldn't use it in the arena somehow, but maybe it would work here.

A rapier formed in his hand, and he smirked. "About time you worked!" He rushed forward at Pride, who merely laughed.

"You have a Devil Arm...how amusing." Pride grabbed the tip of the rapier, snapping it like a twig after drawing Dante in with it and socking him in the face. "But you can give the strongest weapon in the world to a fool, and it will never be fired properly." He held Dante by the wrist bearing the Thousand Arms. "The true potential of this Arm extends beyond its ability to summon random weapons for use. Of course, you would have to experiment with it...and learn to fight, for that matter...to understand that." Dante struggled in the Sin's grasp to no avail. Pride smirked and dropped the hunter to the ground, and kicked him away a few feet. He skidded across the ground a few feet before pushing himself back to his feet slowly.

"Especially amusing," the Sin continued, pacing towards the already-winded Dante, "since you still refuse to access even your own power. Why do you expect to master somebody else's?"

"You really are an ass, aren't you?" Dante summoned Rebellion into his hand, readying for all-out combat. "What is it you want?"

"As I have said. I already know I am stronger than Mundus was. I already know that I am stronger than you. But I want the world to know." He strolled over to the hunter who sidestepped his path. "That I, the Sin of Pride, am beyond the Demon King, beyond the power of even the one who killed him. How am I to prove that when the man who slew Mundus refuses his own power?" With a wave of his hand, Dante was thrown back several feet, slamming back down into the ground. "Where is the Dante that slew Mundus? The Dante that used his full power in everything he did? Where is _that_ Dante?" With another gesture of his hand, the hunter was pulled forward, toward the Sin. "And why do I face this pathetic little boy, afraid of the strength of the demons?"

"He took a bow out," Dante muttered through strained breath, struggling in the invisible grip of this creature that held him.

"Perhaps he left stage a bit too early." He threw his foe back to the ground like a ragdoll. "The play wasn't quite over."

Dante planted Rebellion into the ground, the ground splitting under his sword as he used it to stand himself up. Memories of his battle against Mundus filled his mind. He had almost been defeated by his mortal form, before Vergil destroyed the Hellgate and impaled the Demon King's human form upon his blade, the Yamato.

The Demon King took on the form of a giant, absorbing the materials of Limbo City in order to become a fearsome foe. With a mighty arm, he was able to crush buildings and smash through every defense that the sons of Sparda were able to put up. That was, until, Dante tapped into the demonic power that now lay dormant within him...power that was once awakened through Assiel, one of the past nephilim who was slain during the hunts for their kind.

He triggered the power of the Devil Within him, and his strength was amplified to match that of the Demon King. He held back an attack from the monstrous demon, long enough to defend Vergil from an attack. Truly, with the power of his Devil Within, he was a formidable foe. However he had lost control of it during his fight with Vergil.

"Dante, stop!" The words echoed in his mind as his mind returned to reality; or, whatever term could be used to describe reality in Limbo.

"The play was done for him." Dante muttered darkly, his knuckles whitening from his clenched fists. "Too bad the world wasn't done."

"None of the worlds...Earth, Hell, Heaven...none of them, they're never done." Pride confirmed, with a sad note in his voice as well. "I won't be saving you again, Son of Sparda. If you are killed, then you weren't a worthy opponent in the first place." He shook his head. "I'll take my leave; I would do the same. You won't remain in Limbo forever, and I would take care to reappear on Earth without the tin cans watching you."

"Next time we meet, Pride, you're going down."

"I look forward to it, Son of Sparda."

"And...thanks." Pride scoffed at Dante's gratitude, and vanished. Dante shook his head; he needed to get out of the castle-cathedral; Pride had a point. Even though he was in Limbo, he was physically in the same place that he had been pulled from. That wouldn't bode well for him. He also needed to get in contact with Cain as soon as he'd returned, assuming that the Vitruvian Units halted as soon as Dante disappeared from that battle-to-be.

He looked around him, at the world that surrounded him. Limbo took many different forms, depending on where you were and what demon was in control of that area of the world. In this instance, Limbo took the place of several floating islands and other things normally found on the streets of Empyrean.

Were Dante a human, he would be trapped where he was. However he was the son of an angel, and though he'd never seen an angel, they certainly had their way around based on his angelic powers. He charged forward, lifting dust beneath his boots before he leaped toward the next island; across the empty void that distanced the islands. His hair flew back as he moved through the air, but he started to lose momentum, he closed his eyes.

He felt as though he was being lifted up through the air at first. Afterward, however, he felt as though he was held aloft by the wings of angels. He opened his eyes to see that he was flying through the air, lighter than a feather. The feeling was one of the most exhilarating things he had had in a long time.

The ground of the island soon came, and Dante landed into a roll. Once he hit his feet again, he kept running, as though he were being chased. Pride had not told him how long he had in this realm, so for all he knew he had a precious few moments to get a start on the Vitruvian Units. He reached the end of the island and launched himself forward again. The wings of the angels carried him from island to island as he finally reached what seemed to be the streets of Empyrean.

Contrary to the islands that composed the castle cathedral, the roads seemed mostly intact. A few of the streets had been lifted up a few levels from where they would be on the human plane, but it was nowhere near as bad as what he had just traversed. He leaped over the irregularities of the road, strolling along the asphalt.

As far as he was aware, Pride and the other Sins exclusively used this little area of Limbo to get around without being seen. It was the perfect little pocket to do that; there was no security system that could detect the world of Limbo, not even the Vitruvian Units could harm a demon in here. This was part of the reason that it was so popular when the Demon King imposed this realm over reality for the demons in the first place. They could control humanity from behind the seams; neither loved nor feared.

That said, there were some humans known as mediums, who were capable of detecting Limbo's existence. People like Kat. They were labeled through history as witches, heretics, monstrosities. All of it to protect the demonic ruse that controlled humanity. After all, humans naturally cast out anybody who was different than themselves; mediums could easily be contained, silenced, or killed. Kat was lucky to have fallen in with Vergil, with the Order who protected her from the demons.

This all considered, Dante found some confusion when he had heard noise around the corner. He had not seen the Sins actively working with the demons yet, unless Sloth's pseudo-demons were to be counted. The fact Pride was sealed by the Demon King probably meant they were not allies, but the fact remained that as the hunter turned that corner, he saw something he had definitely not expected.

Hordes, no...armies of demons were all traveling along the city of Empyrean. They were all hidden by Limbo, where no Vitruvian could detect them...why were so many here, and yet so many remained in prisons such as the one he had just escaped. Perhaps they were demons who Pride did not agree with, or those he deemed to weak? Too weak for what?

Dante remained hidden around the corner, pondering what was going on. What had the Sin been plotting? An invasion of Empyrean City? He bared his teeth as he pondered what this could mean...however, he wasn't watching his back. A scout had found him spying upon them; no more than a simple crow demon, but it was all the crowd needed. A bird call sounded out, and the hunter spun to see the black, spiny bird flying back to its group; its blood-red eyes locked on him.

"Damn it..." he muttered as he pulled forth Rebellion and stood out before the crowd. He held the blade defensively while they all sized him up. "Time for a murder of crows."

None of the demons rushed forward as he had expected, however. Rather, they gave him weird looks, probably questioning how anybody had found them in this world. They were too off-guard to put up a fight, so Dante merely dismissed his broadsword and stepped forward. The demons all shrank back from him, not wanting to contact him either.

"Why the spy?" he called out, referring to the crow which had initially pointed him out to the group before him. No answer came from them, they merely continued to stare at him as though he had walked in on them. "Hey! Answer me." Still no answer; this was beginning to get on the devil hunter's nerves. His hand fell near the handle of Ebony, and he had to tell himself not to pull the weapon. He calmed himself with a breath, and took another step toward the demons.

They all turned tail and began to run, causing Dante to shake his head and give chase. His feet hit the ground again and again as he moved along the ground. He closed his eyes again, focusing on his angelic might to carry him; the wind began to move by him much faster. He opened his eyes and found that he was moving faster than a car could; he had already passed the demons, but when he turned around he saw exactly what it was that they were running from.

A big ball of light was following them all, and only the devil hunter was moving fast enough to escape it. It seemed to radiate something...different. Different than anything the hunter had ever felt in his journeys when he fought the Demon King. Nevertheless, he was grateful that he had learned a new way to control his angelic power; propelling himself forward at high velocity, he eventually came to the edge of the island that he had been running across. He kicked off of the ground at full speed and power, practically flying through the air without the need for his angelic flight ability. He turned to face the orb that had been chasing him to find that it had stopped, and had even disappeared as the hunter landed on the next island that awaited him.

A large intersection surrounded him now, with four stoplights on each side of the broken island. While questions still swirled around in the hunter's mind, the island was elevated high into the air. Higher and higher as seconds went by, and Dante braced himself for whatever would happen next. It was as though he had landed upon an elevator, and for the most part he was completely correct. Then he looked out to the world that surrounded him. He was now probably in the highest part of Pride's Limbo, and had a view of everything. He looked down upon the world, seeing many things; the Colosseum, the Vatican, the wall that surrounded the city...and the army that marched just outside of it.

He stood at the edge of the island, trying to get the best view of the army that he could. Several extremely high-class demons were entering the city one after another; pieces of the puzzle fitted together in Dante's mind. Pride was sneaking an army into the city of Empyrean, through the one front that the humans could not guard without a medium. The hunter bared his teeth as he thought back to why the Sins did not want him to investigate the Vitruvian Units.

Then he turned around to see that the ball of light had been following him. Taking in a quick breath, without time to call upon the speed he had commanded earlier, he hopped off of the island and hoped that there was somewhere for him to land. Fortunately, he landed upon the gravel of a highway that had drifted below the island. He charged to the end of it, leaping forward from the island he found himself on. He closed his eyes, focusing on the power of the angels once more. He charged forth, faster and faster as time went by.

He leaped from island to island in single bounds. He had raced through the world of Limbo faster than he could perceive. He turned to face the orb which could not keep pace with him; soon it had disappeared into the background. He leaped upward and launched himself forward with more power than he had ever felt before; had he really become that much better at using his angel powers? He smiled at the thought of defeating Pride with this outrageous speed he had been accessing. He just needed to learn how to perceive his surroundings much faster to use the ability effectively.

As he ran, he saw a helicopter that was floating in the void. Seeing as no other helicopters were in the air, Dante found himself wondering if Cain and his soldiers had escaped the onslaught of the Vitruvian Units. He kicked off of an island that floated parallel to the flying vehicle, landing inside it with grace. He caught the bar and steadied himself looking around the cabin. As difficult as it was to see demons in the human world, it was almost as difficult to see humans in the demon world.

They appeared as transparent beings, like ghosts. Even though in the world of Limbo, the helicopter seemed to be immobile, in the real world the vehicle was traveling across the city. He saw the silhouette of Cain speaking with two silhouettes he assumed to be the soldiers that accompanied them. With a smile of content, Dante readied to leap out of the vehicle once more, taking only the time to glance back at the orb that had been following him through Limbo.

He took a breath and launched himself away, landing on an island that was a few feet away. He kept running, however, because he saw the orb was still chasing him. He still did not know how much longer he had in Limbo, and as much as he would have preferred to remain in the helicopter for when that happened, he was not entirely willing to wait for the orb of light to catch up to him.

Finally, he stopped running, pausing and taking many breaths. His heart beat had tried to keep up with the speed he had just called upon. He looked around him, trying to figure out where he had ended up in his flight; it wasn't the castle cathedral, and it wasn't the streets he had seen before. It wasn't the underground laboratory he had been in with Phineas, and it wasn't anywhere he recognized offhand.

He looked around him, curious as to what was happening. Obviously Pride had expected him to have been ejected from Limbo by now; he wouldn't have wanted the hunter to see the army he was sneaking into the city, and discover the fruits of his plans. He folded his arms and frowned; as soon as he returned to the real world, he'd need to talk to Kat, to find out everything she knew about the Sins' plans.

The orb appeared again, and in shock the hunter fell onto his butt. He held a hand up to the light to guard his eyes as he backed up desperately to get away from it. He turned over, his belly facing the ground, and stumbled forward desperately to his feet. With every step forward he almost tripped, he had been so imbalanced by the sudden appearance of the thing he had thought he'd escaped.

"Keep running, Dante!" A voice rang out as the hunter made it to the edge of the island. The voice echoed, and Dante quickly recognized who had said those words. He spun to see the orb of light one last time, before it closed the distance between the two. He drew Rebellion and yelled out as the orb had flowed over him. At first it was a terrifying experience, but then realization of what the orb was came to him. It was how Pride was ejecting him from Limbo.

When Dante opened his eyes, however, he was greeted by a sight he would have been much happier not seeing. As he looked around the room he had appeared in, with Cardinals and Vitruvian Units all around, he shrugged innocently. He'd escaped the castle cathedral he had awoken in this morning, sure; but now that he was in the center of the Vatican, he realized one thing.

Even with the help of the Dead Man's Respite, and the Sin of Pride...he had not escaped.


	14. Mission Thirteen: Legendary Dark Knight

Sorry for the delay, writer's block has struck pretty hard. I will finish this story, I promise, I just don't know how timely I will be about it.  
Anyway, enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

"Oh..." The first thing that Dante had noticed within the famous cathedral was the faces of the many Cardinals, dressed in velvet red and wearing faces of fear and disgust. Why wouldn't they fear him? He was sure that he was all over the news when he saved the people of the stadium, only to be revealed to be a demon himself. Not only that, but he had rather unceremoniously appeared within their Sunday service. "...shit."

He did not draw any weapons; there were too many innocent people in here that could be hurt if he got into a fight with the Vitruvian Units. Not only that, but he already had a negative image with the holy community; while he didn't personally care very much if they liked him or not, he would rather not make too much of an enemy out of the people he swore to his brother he would protect.

Rather, as the robotic corpse-men started raising their weaponry at the devil hunter, he merely raised his hands in surrender. Not a tactic he liked to take, however it was the safest one at the moment. Reinforcements could be here in the blink of an eye, and they would have him locked back up no matter how much of a struggle he put up against them. So much of him wanted to draw Ebony and Ivory and begin spraying bullets in every direction, but as the Vitruvian Units drew closer to him, he knew his plan for now had to be different.

Once they were almost completely surrounding him, having accepted his surrender and lowered their weapons, he closed his eyes. They were so close to their prize, having Dante once more in their clutches...but it was then that the action began. He swallowed a breath and leaped upward, shocking all of the Vitruvians that had thought him docile. Before they could ready their weapons, the devil hunter had already sprinted towards one of the pews, vaulting behind it.

Bullets began spraying while he hid beneath the wooden cover he'd chosen. They would tear through the pew like tissue paper, so right now the hunter was relying on luck and the robot's poor aim for his salvation. As bullets began grazing his arms and nearly hitting him in the back of the head, he quickly came to the conclusions that the Vitruvian Units had some form of robotic aiming device that was aiding them, and began moving around with his back hunched.

He managed to hunch his way over to the end of the pew, gritting his teeth as he spun around the side, moving back a row. He would have turned into Swiss cheese had he tried to move back any other way. Even as he was moving, he knew that the Vitruvian Units were closing in on him, faster than he had the freedom to move. Once he reached the final pew, he looked up to see the grand doors closed tightly, preventing his escape.

He slumped against the pew, letting out a sigh as he contemplated how he was going to get by the large wooden doors. One thing was for sure, however; the Vatican was a well-maintained building, even in the demonic apocalypse that had transpired. It was odd, though; why were the Vitruvian Units attacking him in the main room? Had they no concept of rules of engagement? They were attacking in the middle of the room that these people held in such high regard.

He pulled out Ebony and took aim at the door. He took care not to hold his arm out, lest he lose it in a hailstorm of bullets that the Vitruvian Units were currently putting out toward him. He also needed to fire his gun quickly as well, for the bots were not only closing in on his position, but eviscerating all the cover that he had. He took a breath and pulled the trigger, the sound of his gunshot lost in the sound of the shower of bullets coming toward him.

He pressed down on the trigger again, aligning the barrel of the gun with another of the door's great hinges. Normally bullets would probably have little effect against something this massive, but with Dante's ability to make his bullets compress on impact, a skill he coined "impact bullets", he was able to output the damage necessary to smash the great door open. Even still, shooting open the Vatican's doors was not something one simply did.

As the sound of robots closing in became loud enough to be perceived over the bullet storm, Dante knew this was his only option now. Bullet holes decorated the walls of the Vatican; beautiful murals were destroyed due to machine lack of intelligence. In some sick way, this was justice; these cretins probably supported the idea of sacrificing human life to fight back against the demons. They were lucky he didn't engage the bots immediately; more than their art would have been lost in the battle.

He pulled the trigger one final time, the door finally coming unhinged; a loud groan came from the walls and the door alike as it fell forward. Using the distraction as his chance, the hunter charged forward, trying to draw upon the power of his angelic running to get ahead. To his surprise, the power did nothing and he ran no faster than his usual limit, barely dodging bullets as they flew at him.

Finally he had reached the end of the hallway, leaping forward into a somersault in an attempt to escape the bullets that chased him. He was rewarded with the sound of bullets whizzing by him, just barely missing him and smashing into the wall behind him as he rolled onto the floor. He took a breath and paused, thinking about how he had just managed that, before he heard the Vitruvians begin giving chase.

His feet hit the floor once more as he continued his escape from the Vatican. When he got out the front door, his plan was to flee to the city streets and melt into the crowds. That was the only way he saw himself actually escaping these automatons. He rounded another corner, imagining the entrance that he would use as an exit, but instead found another patrol of the Frankensteins searching for him. He skidded across the granite floors while bullets began coming at him from all directions.

He dove for a nearby pillar, which had already had bullets tearing through it. "Okay, you don't like me..." he muttered to himself, looking for anywhere else he could run to. He had nowhere to run back to, having just fled other enforcements through a one-way hallway. It was only a matter of time before the Vitruvian Units he had been fleeing from caught up to him, and then he'd have bullets coming at him from all directions.

He looked up in exasperation, gritting his teeth while he thought of someway out of his situation. That was when he saw the rafters above him. He turned around and began scaling the pillar; a task made much easier by the bullets creating several handholds for the hunter to use. The bot even seemed to be able to track him on his way up the pillar that protected him. That didn't worry him very much.

It was when a bullet nearly grazed his hand that gave his heart a jump. He looked around to see that the ones who'd been chasing him from the room he'd appeared in had finally caught up to him. Cursing his luck, he hopped from the pillar to the rafters, nearly losing his balance. Bullets still flew at him, now accompanied by the splinters that came with shattering wood, but he was a harder target to hit on high than he would be if he fell; therefore it became vital to him to remain up there.

He placed one foot after another, hoping that the rafters wouldn't shatter beneath the stress of the devil hunter and the bullets that followed him. Every step he took was another heart-pounding moment; he wasn't in the mood to be a bullet sponge, and even if he didn't they would still capture him again. He dreaded the thought of being stuck in a room with Icarus again. His balance faltered as a bullet flew by his right foot, causing him to look down at exactly what he'd be facing.

There were at least four Vitruvian Units directly below him, all with their guns aimed directly at him. He let out a cry of surprise and leaped across the rafters, landing just free of their burst of gunfire. He slipped and fell, grabbing the wooden beam, fingers nearly slipping with all the strain put on his hand. He reached up and grabbed the beam with his other hand and began to shimmy across the ceiling's support, before reaching a corner and pulling himself up.

The wood shattered around him, and the beam began to fell. Already he was on an inclined plane, almost ready to fall to the ground as bullets flew by him. He grunted and began to run up, placing one foot in front of the other as he focused on getting back up to the more solidly supported section of the beam that kept him safe from the Vitruvian Units. He jumped at the last minute just as the beam fell behind him, and continued moving forward, keeping his head down as the robotic menaces below continued to pelt his salvation with lead.

Finally, one of the bots got a lucky shot. Hit square in the shoulder, Dante fell on his knees while the beam beneath him was shot to splintered pieces. He let out a scream of pain while the beam went down, and he slid off of it easily enough. This was it, he thought; he was going to hit the ground and his whole escape plan was kaput. The Vitruvian Units carefully shifted their aim to hit the hunter on his way down, but the spray was, fortunately enough, causing them to miss near every shot.

He crashed into the ground, but heard the sound of rocks collapsing around him. His eyes were clamped shut as he went down, but when he opened them he saw that he was sliding down a dirt tunnel, with large pieces of floor following him. He had fallen through the floor, and his body was not very happy about it: every inch of his skin was screaming at him in pain. The events of the past few days filled his mind; he hadn't had a rest in a long time, between the demon-fighting, the torture, and the running away. Now as his slid past the rough tunnel of dirt, evading the large pieces of floor he had crashed through.

Finally, he slid into a long tunnel that had many torches in it. He rolled along the floor, covered in blood and dirt, cursing again and again. He spat up some blood and rubbed some more off of his mouth. He stood up, rubbing some dirt off of his pants, and tore off his ripped up shabby old shirt. Tossing it aside, he felt the amulet press coolly against his chest; the amulet that his mother had given him, so many years ago.

"Son of a...piece of shit..." he looked around him, looking at the many drawings that covered the walls. He looked at the wall he had crashed out of, and shook his head before turning to walk away. Along the torchlit walls he saw a lot of murals; these artworks were not the same as the legendary Raphael's art that had been shot to pieces in the rooms above him; rather, their style was not dissimilar to a style commonly found in graffiti on the streets.

They depicted what looked like a large black monster with horns walking towards a group of smaller monstrosities, standing before a large group of humans. Dante ran his hand along the wall as he walked by, feeling the cool, rough edges of art-covered surface. As he walked along the wall, he saw that the images were repeated in some places, and in others they were modified slightly.

He looked up from the wall when he had heard a metallic noise, ready to bolt again. What he saw was a large metal sphere; it was like a Vitruvian Unit, but there was something different about it. He drew Ebony and Ivory, taking a breath as he stared the chrome beast down. The fire of the torches reflected off of it, making it seem all the more beastly as it approached.

He looked down and saw the hook on its claw, and he quickly realized how he had fallen through solid ground. "Now that you've grabbed my attention..." he muttered, adjusting his grip on Ivory for more comfort with the gun's rapid-fire capability. "...what do you want?" The Vitruvian Unit merely stood there, staring at him. "No response? Maybe that's cause you're not as lively as you once were."

"A demon appearing in the halls of the Vatican." It said at last, surprising Dante. Its voice was clear, well-pronounced and had a very fatherly tone. As if he weren't accusing the devil hunter so much as consoling him. "The demon that appeared in the guise of a devil hunter at the Colosseum, no less. I had heard that you were in the custody of the officials."

"Who are you?" the hunter replied, dangerously close to pulling the trigger. His curiosity was all that was holding him back.

"I would not fire upon this unit, demon." It responded, almost sensing Dante's intent. "This apparatus is a fair bit more capable of combat than the units you have been fighting up until now."

"That a threat?" Dante frowned, staring at the machine before him. "I don't respond well to threats."

"This conversation has gone off-track, demon."

"I know what you are; you're a corpse being controlled by a machine! How are you talking?"

"Ah, I am merely a vocal communicator attached to a Vitruvian Mark Two Unit." The chrome monster shifted and moved closer. "Or rather, a person at the other end of the Vitruvian Unit."

"Alright, what's your name?"

"Call me Lucas."

"...Lucas?" Dante shifted his own weight, crossing his feet and uncrossing them as he walked across the hallway, trying to strafe to the side of the machine he spoke to.

"Yes, that is a suitable name, don't you think? And what is your name, demon? I feel rather dirty referring to you as your race."

"Call me Dante." At the sound of his name, the machine fell silent for a while.

"...Dante...the Son of Sparda?"

"I guess." Dante shrugged at the robot's knowledge of him. "What's it to you?"

"Why do any of Sparda's exploits matter to anyone, Dante? Oh, I'd quite like to meet you in person." There was a fondness in the machine's voice. "The Legendary Dark Knight is quite the savior of humanity."

"Excuse me? My _father_ is the savior of humanity?"

"Indeed. He was a powerful Archdemon. You of all people should know." The machine gave no emotion, so all Dante had to create a mental image of the man speaking to him was his voice. It was the voice of an elderly man, however it still held a powerful and commanding tone to it. Perhaps in his youth he had been in the military, and age had mellowed him: for his voice was yet calm and collected.

"Mundus was a powerful demon too. He still went down like a bitch." Dante held his gun up to the machine, growing impatient at the old man's voice. "I want answers."

"So the rumors were true. It really was the Son of the Legendary Dark Knight that defeated the Demon King."

"How is it that, even though _I_ slew the Demon King, I am still known as the _Son of Sparda_? Why isn't Sparda known as the _Father of Dante_ or something?"

"Indeed, Dante. You are a legendary warrior all on your own." The voice paused. That was when Dante heard other machines in the tunnel he had just been pulled through. He pointed Ivory at the hole in the wall, now angry.

"You tricked me!" He called out; having been stalled by the old man, the machines had time to catch up to him.

"Hold on for a moment, Son of Sparda." The machines all poured into a room, and then stopped. In a moment, he was staring at a room full of statuesque soldiers.

"Not the least unnerving sight..." he muttered, but heard footsteps. A lone man stepped beside the large automaton that had initially faced him in the room.

"Hello, Son of Sparda."

"Apparently that's the best title I'll ever get."

"Being the offspring of the Legendary Dark Knight is not something many would take for granted." The man said with a tone of disappointment. He was old, that much was evident from his wrinkly skin, his milky blue eyes and his long, whitened beard.

"Well in case you haven't noticed, I'm not 'many' people." Dante retorted sourly, looking around him. The old man chuckled at his words, casting his gaze towards the cornered nephilim. Despite his obvious wrinkles and grayed hair, the man was not crippled in any visible way; no cane, no glasses, nothing to hint that anything other than his skin had felt the effects of time upon it. "You must be a fan of my old man, to stop the metal brigade to talk to me about him."

"I definitely have a respect for your bloodline, Dante." Lucas replied, walking over to the murals that Dante had been looking at not too long ago. "I assume you know of the eternal war between the angels and the demons."

"Yeah, that was in the 'You are involved in the insane world of the supernatural' talk." Dante retorted, remembering Vergil's explanation of the war that he was involved in. How the angels and demons had been fighting for longer than anybody can remember, and how he and Vergil were nephilim; offspring of both sides of this war.

"The Fair Lady Eva was not swayed by just any demon, however." Lucas said in a nostalgic tone. "And the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda would not lose everything he had worked for just for any woman. Part of what had made their union so...evil...is that their actions were not fueled by lust, or rebellion against their kind."

"Do I have to stay here for the story? I have places to be."

"Of course, I wouldn't want to stop your rush to be incarcerated." At Lucas' words, Dante grudgingly looked around and leaned against a wall.

"So what made Sparda and Eva so special?" His tone was sarcastic, however even Dante could realize, looking around the room at the machines with loaded guns all pointed right at him, that he had no choice but to listen; the old man looked up at the wall.

"They both served as a remind that neither side was the side of the good and holy." Dante raised an eyebrow when he heard this. "Demons are not evil, nor angels good. None understood this more than Sparda and Eva...and yet, they were destroyed for defying their mold."

"So...what did Sparda do to earn Eva's respect? Kill a bunch of demons?"

"Hmph, 'kill a bunch of demons'...you truly have no respect for your ancestry." Lucas shook his head. "Sparda was the one who started an insurrection within Hell, stood in the shadows and did battle against Mundus."

"Did battle against Mundus?" Dante unfolded his arms and stood up from the wall. "He was one of Mundus' strongest lieutenants! Why...?"

"Mundus and Sparda were as brothers, Dante." Lucas looked at the image of two great black beasts; they held one hand, and armed the other. Although one was aimed at the other beast, and the other was aimed elsewhere. "And the closer you are to your enemy, the shorter of a knife you will need." Dante stared at the mural, and could only think of how his actions would seem if events were depicted differently. He remembered his induction into the Order, led by his brother Vergil. He remembered their victory over Mundus...and he remembered their duel afterward.

With a sobered tone, Dante looked toward the old man and opened his mouth. "So, Sparda infiltrated Mundus' ranks just to stab him in the back?"

"That is the simplified version of the events that took place, yes." Lucas stood up. "However, the day soon came when he met Eva during his tireless quest to bring about a flawed King and dethrone him, tearing the Demonic hierarchy to pieces." He sighed and looked at the wall. "Beautiful, beautiful Eva...and powerful Sparda. They were quite a match for one another."

"Apparently Mundus didn't think so." Dante looked at some more of the murals; some he recognized from his tour of Limbo City with Vergil; depicting the lovers and their downfall at the hands of the Demon King. "The only thing they could produce were nephilim; children who could dethrone the King."

"Your birth was never intended to be what ended the Demon King's reign; that was a last resort. The night Eva's heart was torn free of her chest by Mundus' might was the night that Sparda enacted his most drastic decision." Dante summoned the Rebellion. "He shattered his own soul, producing the Rebellion; a powerful weapon for his son."

"So the Rebellion is his Devil Arm, not mine..."

"It was Sparda's final gift to you." He touched the blade, and quickly pulled his hand away from it. "The power of an Archdemon, contained in three blades. The Rebellion, bequeathed to his son, Dante." He looked to the mural, and back to the sword in the hunter's hand. "The Sparda, his full might given the form of a sword, and the Yamato, given the power to cut through anything. Both of these blades have been lost to history." Dante knew better, but the mystery existed; why did nobody know of Vergil? Not the Demon King, not this mysterious guy...

"So how do you know all of this?" the hunter asked at last, folding his arms. "Who are you?"

"I am an unimportant person. I merely understand what is at stake in the war between angels and demons. More importantly, I know you have a place in that war now, having slain the Demon King."

"All I know is the door to Hell has been sealed, and now I am fighting Pride and his pals."

"The Sins are awake? How?"

"You know 'em?"

"The Sins are an evil beyond even Mundus." The old man turned and began to walk away, beckoning the nephilim to follow. "One of the last things Sparda and Mundus fought for was the sealing of their kind; for they are the physical concept of human sin. One can not destroy an idea."

"I'll sure as Hell try."

"Even with the full power of Sparda, you would be incapable of the feat." He shook his head. "I was...incorrect."

"Yeah?"

"There is only one way to destroy a human concept." He looked up at a final mural, depicting a large dark beast with its hand around the earth. "For there is no force on earth capable of destroying a concept, save the complete annihilation of all those able to conceptualize it."

"No force on Earth." Dante responded, but before he was able to finish, Lucas turned to face him.

"Not even your strength can stop them, Dante. The worst thing you can do is seal them, but to do that..." He shook his head. "No, not even you can do that."

"So we're gonna...what, bend over for them? I have better things to do than let Pride rule over me."

"It already does." Lucas responded, before finally standing before a great door. "In you I sense a strong presence of all seven sins. Pride in your victory over the Demon King, lust for a human girl, wrath for the demons who you feel much pain from." He took a breath and gestured toward the door, beckoning Dante's attention. It was a large oaken door, an impressive construct which begged the question: where in the Vatican were they?

The old man opened the door, revealing a grand room with a desk at the end of it. "From these three, you will find your greatest threat, for in them is your own power."

"So they're drawing power from me?" Dante asked as he stepped into the room, following the old man into the chamber where even their footsteps echoed.

"You, and every other being who sins as such." Lucas' comment caused Dante to fold his arms in annoyance; what kind of monsters were these? "However, Heaven and Hell war even still; a new Demon King will rise, and it will be his responsibility to deal with the Seven Sins."

"Why is it the Demon King's responsibility? What about God?"

"Do not mention him." Lucas responded with brevity. "He has nothing to do with anything, and I would suggest to you to not carry on about Him." This made Dante pause for thought; in a war between angels and demons, the fact God had nothing to do with anything brought him natural confusion. He decided not to inquire further, as the old man suggested; the chrome soldiers behind him were good incentive to just follow orders...for now.

"So now what?" Dante asked; the question stood in the air for a few moments. It wasn't aimed at any particular topic; what the old man planned for Dante, what they were going to do about the Sins running about the Earth; nevertheless, its importance remained. Finally, the old man turned around and faced the young man.

"The Vitruvian Units are the best defense we have against the Sins."

"What do corpsebots have on the Sins?"

"They have no emotion; no will, no Sin. They, unlike demons, humans, and angels, are free of the very thing that fuels these monstrosities."

"No, they're just made of sin."  
"Hm?"

"Don't pretend you don't know how these things are made. They need life; you sacrifice a living human body to produce a working bot." The old man exhaled and smiled; rather than calming the hunter, it angered him further. "You are sacrificing people's humanity, and for what?"

"For perfect beings."

"...perfect...beings...?"

"Beings that exist without a concept of good or evil. Sentient beings, sans virtue and vice." He looked Dante square in the eye. "Androids that will replace not only humanity, but demon and angelkind as well." As eccentric a plan as this seemed, Lucas maintained a calm voice even as he stood up. "The oldest war there ever has been, will finally be over. Isn't some sacrifice worth that?"

Dante looked around the room, at all the foes that surrounded him. This man, as warm and fatherly as he seemed, was completely insane. It no longer mattered that he knew about the supernatural war, or even about the existence of angels and demons. Before he could utter a word, however, Lucas continued speaking. "I can see that you and I disagree. That is alright." He sat back in his chair, and leaned away from the desk, his eyes still on Dante.

"No, it's not alright." Dante responded. "Who are you to make that choice?"

"The only man who has cared enough to make the choice." Lucas' response was as calm as could be, all the while Dante's anger peaked. "Let us walk our separate ways then, Son of Sparda. You shall continue fighting the endless war, and I would hope for you to realize that you could slay a hundred Demon Kings and still not see the end of the battles."

"And you'll keep dirtying the souls of humanity, rendering all death meaningless." Dante replied harshly, shaking his head and turning away. The Vitruvian Units stood aside, creating a hall of steel before himself and the exit of the room.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Dante." Lucas called after him. "And remember, as long as you stay out of my business, the Vitruvian Units..." Dante reached the doorway, frowning that he had no power over the old man when faced against these metal monsters. "...I will stay out of your war against the Sins."

With that, the door closed behind him. He needed to reunite with the devil hunters of Empyrean and tell them what he'd seen; he needed to get back to some familiarity. Most of all, he needed a good drink and some sleep...


	15. Mission Fourteen: Et tu?

Chapter 14 a bit earlier than you would expect. Enjoy and stick with me! It's not the end! What do I mean? Read on to find out :P

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Sunlight sprinkled into Dante's room in dusty beams tainted by the dirty blinders that were strewn about this way and that along the window. Below the window was a bed with messed up sheets and covers, and a young man who held his arm between his eyes and the sunlight, groaning impatiently as he had hoped to sleep off the rest of his hangover.

The young man swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up so fast he nearly knocked himself back over. Letting out a groan, he held his head between his hands; the pain of a headache burning away at his hung over sanity. He tried to recall the events of the day previous as he closed his eyes.

He remembered leaving the Vatican unhindered by any Vitruvian Units. The streets of the city were like he remembered them before the event at the Colosseum; it was as though nothing had changed in the outside world while he was away. It was a hallowing thought; the world was able to go on without him...but he didn't know how well it had done.

His stomach did a turn as he opened his eyes, the splitting headache coloring his vision of the room into a deep crimson. "Fuck..." he muttered, closing his eyes again. "...how much did I fucking drink...?" he remembered that he finally returned to the bar, "The Dead Man's Respite", where he was aided by the leader of the city's Devil Hunting Guild, Cain.

He had explained what he had learned about the Sins, how they were powered by the sins of humanity. How they were a concept, and how defeating them was supposedly impossible. He omitted the part about the old man in charge of the Vitruvian Units, however he vaguely remembered the Units coming up in conversation.

It was then Dante felt a surge of energy in his gut, and he stood to his feet, charging to the bathroom. In a moment, he was on his knees, dry-heaving into the toilet; it had been so long since he'd actually had a meal that he had nothing left to expounge. He remained there, staring at the toilet water, before standing back up and swallowing as best as he could. He looked at himself in the mirror; were it not for his healing factor, he would have been surprised at how unharmed he looked after the torment he went through.

As it was, the only change he could see was in his own eyes. As he stared into the mirror, he could see the events that had transpired; he was losing faith in humanity, losing faith in his own decisions. He ran the sink, listening to the water fall as he thought about his battle against Vergil. The blood they'd spilled for humanity, to free them of the demonic oppression...now the humans sacrificed each other to continue the endless fight.

Leaning down, he splashed himself in the face with the cold tap. He rubbed the cold water over his face, finding that he really did not care about the eternal war as he had thought he would. He turned the handle by the faucet, stopping the water, and rubbed his face on a towel that lay beside the sink. When he was fighting Mundus, he had to admit that the thought of battling demons and angels made his blood boil with excitement. Alongside Vergil, he would take on more than the world. He felt shame that he couldn't take on the Vitruvians in the Vatican, defeated by the simplest of humans. How had he been intimidated so easily? Something about that man...didn't seem right.

He stepped out of the bathroom to look upon his room with less pained eyes; he was still feeling the effects of the hangover, but he had some control over his dizziness now. He stumbled about, grabbing his dirtied, plain white undershirt; while he himself showed no wear and tear from the past events, this shirt definitely did. Stained with blood and riddled with rips and tears, it was as broken as he should have been.

He sighed and pulled it over his shoulders, falling onto the bed he had been sleeping in. He let out a yawn and pulled his pants on, dirty and used jeans that he had been wearing the past few weeks. He stretched his legs, and finally stepped into his shoes as he walked to his door. He had to keep in mind the people of New Limbo: the reason he still fought. He balled his hands into fists as he thought back to when he'd left, before all this had happened. Before he'd left to discover Angelo City...before he'd fought Mundus. Had life ever really been any better?

After being dropped off at the orphanage, Dante had never really been treated very well. He had always been an outcast, in both the eyes of humankind and the demons who hunted him. Then again, the thought that at any day or time, he could have been killed by demons pulling him into Limbo caused him to turn to drugs and booze to calm his nerves. The constant fight for his own life had caused him to cease caring for the human race, but when Vergil reached out to him...he had felt hope.

Perhaps he was blinded where Vergil was not...as Dante thought about the Vitruvian Units he was chased by in the Vatican, he wondered just how little attention he'd paid to the humans he'd sworn to protect. How much did Vergil know that he didn't? He opened the door, seeing an empty hallway which he traveled down until he saw the bar proper. It was morning, so nobody but Cain sat in the bar. The sound of Dante's approach attracted the man's attention, who greeted him with a smile.

"Helluva job you accepted last night." He said as he stood up, causing Dante to once more wonder what had happened the night previous. After he started drinking, the night became a bit of a blur. There was a party celebrating his return (or, so Dante joked, a party celebrating them not having to mount a second rescue attempt), so there were several burly men and strong-bodied women drinking and singing.

"Job?" Dante sat at one of the stools by the bar, and Cain ducked under the bar to grab something. "No, no drinks...I'm still recovering."

"Of course no drinks." Cain responded, standing up from the counter and handing Dante his handguns, Ebony and Ivory. He looked wide-eyed at the beauties, searching his memory for how he'd lost them. "Can't believe you got so wasted you forgot." The hunter grabbed his guns, holstering them in the waistline of his jeans.

"Okay, so what'd I agree to do, and for who?" Dante asked, laying his arms onto the counter as he bent his head over, rubbing his temples.

"For some man named 'Captain Baha', you agreed to go to a place known as 'the factory' and investigate the creation and purpose of the Vitruvian Units." As Cain explained the mission, Dante's eyes shot open. He was intrigued that the man who'd managed to get him across the Mediterranean sea had gotten in contact with him. He admitted, he lost track of the crew after being captured by the Vitruvian Units, but he never thought they'd get back to him.

His next thought was how much of an idiot he was for agreeing to do anything involving the corpsebots. He remembered Lucas' warning, and had some fear for what would happen if he was caught. He shook his head quickly, and stood to his full height as he looked at Cain. He agreed to this, and he had to admit that he was interested in what actually went into the creation of these monsters. That said, he had another agreement, and while he knew which agreement he wished to honor, he also knew that he would potentially give up any lead against the Sins if he was caught investigating the Vitruvian Units.

"So where'd the good captain say he'd meet me?" Dante asked as he looked around the empty bar. "I need to reconfirm some details of our bargain. Let him know I'm out." Cain sighed at the hunter's words while cleaning out a glass.

"So you're pulling out of this?" The bartender asked as he looked at Dante. "I know you just escaped them, but you're going to let fear pull you back now?" The hunter shook his head at the words, not knowing if he should explain the terms of his agreement with Cain. How he had agreed to stay out of any business involving the Vitruvian Units.

"It's not my choice." He responded solemnly, opening his hand and looking at his palm. Dirt and callouses told what scars could not; they were well used hands, that were almost always holding a weapon. Ever since he first drew Rebellion against Mundus, it seemed that that was to be his fate. To fight until the end of his existence.

"It's always a choice, kid." He looked at Dante, his face telling of some understanding. "I do not know what is going on right now, but what I do know is that you have been offered a job to investigate the tin soldiers. That's an opportunity a lot of Devil Hunters would kill for, and you're the only man it was offered to."

"It doesn't matter." Dante responded, placing his hands on the counter and leaning on it.

"What, you're afraid you can't do it?" Cain turned around and placed the glass back on the rack, picking another one up off the counter and rubbing it with his rag. "If anything, you're the only one who can. Not only are you the Devil Hunting Demon, you're also the first demon to escape that asylum god-knows-how. If anybody can learn anything about those abominations, hell, even put a dent in whatever they are doing...it's you."

"I'm not worried that I can't do it." The hunter responded, looking down at the counter, his dark and silver hair draping over his face; it had grown in captivity.

"Okay, you're not worried." Cain leaned down onto the counter, still wiping away at the glass. "Why won't you take the job of a lifetime?" Again confronted with the question, Dante shook his head and pushed away from the counter.

"I'm not playing this game." Dante responded, turning to leave anyway.

"Where do you think you're going?" The bartender called after Dante, standing from the counter and placing the glass down. "You don't even know where Captain Baha is."

"Then I guess I'll have to find him." Dante didn't know what drove him, but he had to stay out of Lucas' line of sight. At least until he had defeated the Sins. However, opening the door brought the hunter face-to-face with Kat, the woman who had helped himself and Vergil defeat Mundus. He looked at her tiny form, her hood still up as she was accustomed to doing. Though the events of the Order's war ended long ago, along with any reason to hide her identity, she still felt comfortable wearing it when out and about, and being among strangers as often as she must have been, he couldn't blame her.

"You escaped." She said, breaking a long and awkward silence as the two stood at the door, staring at each other. This was such an awkward first two words to share that Dante was dumbfounded as to how to respond. Had the Sins done something to her while she was in their captivity? There was still the question of how she had gotten away. Her story didn't precisely add up to how he imagined Pride would think.

"You're surprised?" He finally responded, adopting a cocky smirk. "I told you nothing out here could kill me. Not even the fuckin' corpsebots hold a candle to me." He shook his head and stood aside, allowing the woman to see herself in. He closed the door behind her; he had time to kill, he decided. Time to reacquaint himself with Kat, unlike when they had first reunited before the Colosseum event.

"Hello dear, my name's Cain." The bartender introduced himself as the girl seated herself at the bar.

"My name is Kat." the girl responded with some coldness, however this did not seem to bother the barkeeper. Dante sat beside her, resting his elbows on the counter.

"A pleasure to meet you. Though I have to apologize, I'm not serving drinks this early in the day anymore. Perhaps you'd like some water or something?" Cain leaned across the counter from the disassociated couple, looking in Dante's eyes as he asked. At first, the hunter didn't respond, simply struggling with his already taxed mind to find something to say to the girl. It seemed so odd to speak to her now; before they could flirt and banter with great ease. Now, the simplest of phrases had trouble working their way past his lips.

"...uh...yeah, yeah water is fine." He finally managed to respond, and Kat turned to face him.

"You fought well at the tournament." Kat commented, not looking at Dante. Her eyes were cast in the direction of Cain preparing some water for three. However the way her eyes stared directly forward, one could tell she wasn't looking at him; she was in her own world right now. He found himself wondering if she could see Pride's Limbo, but he couldn't force himself to ask. "I apologize for not being able to help you against the Vitruvians."

"They caught me off-guard, is all." Dante responded, shaking his head. "Nothing anybody could've done. Besides, it's behind us."

"Is it, Dante?" Kat responded. Glass clanked against the counter as the bartender finished with the water, sliding the glasses towards the two and took a swig of his own water.

"What do you mean?" As he spoke, metal footsteps could be heard outside; the gears whirring just within earshot of the Devil Hunter.

"The Vitruvian Units, Dante. They threaten everything." Kat's voice shook as she spoke, and Dante brought an arm around her shoulders. "Not just demons, but humans, and even angels..."

"Kat, I..."

"Angels are involved in this, too?" Cain asked, leaning forward to be more involved in the conversation. "I can see the damned zombiebots being a problem for humans and demons, but angels?"

"There's an entire war, Cain." Dante said, still holding Kat close. "Demons and angels have always been fighting."

"Ah, I see." Cain nodded. "So, this war...where are the angels, and why're we fighting the demons for them?"

"The demons on Earth are disconnected from the war at large. It's because they're stuck here...they can't return to Hell." Dante's explanation prompted Kat to pull away from the hunter, whose arm then drooped with disappointment.

"With an army of unkillable warriors at any one person's command, it's inevitable another Hellgate will be opened."

"...wait." Dante looked at Kat. "Another Hellgate? Vergil destroyed the only one."

"There are more Hellgates on Earth than just the Demon King's Gate." Kat's response was quick and somewhat cold. "Some are held in legend; the box of Pandora is one of the most well-known."

"Hah, Pandora's Box. That makes sense." Cain interjected and took another drink. "The whole 'opening the box to unleash evil' business. You two gonna drink those?" Kat picked up her water with both hands, taking a sip.

"Dante, I need you to do me this favor...destroy the factory that makes these metallic...things." Dante's eyes widened at the request, and he looked down at the counter, away from the girl.

"Don't bother," Cain looked at the girl, then to Dante. "He already said he can't do this job."

"But...but Dante! You have to! For all our sakes!" The hunter somberly looked at his glass, swirling the water within it.

"Kat, I..." He shook his head and looked at her.

"You said nothing here could kill you. Why are you scared of this?"

"I said..."

"You're the only one who can do anything about this." Cain added. "If you need help, just ask."

"Look, I don't need help. The things don't stand a chance against me. Just..." Dante stood up and looked at Kat, before turning away and closing his eyes. "I need time, okay? Time to think."

"Dante...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Dante opened the door and walked outside The Dead Man's Respite, looking up at the air. The morning sun had just peeked over some buildings, casting a bright yellow glow over the city. The hunter's hair blew in the small wind that drifted through the cityscape, and he took a breath.

In his journey, he hadn't thought he would have ended up having to choose which target to go after; the Sins or the Vitruvian Units. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to choose...Kat knew the Sins existed, but still chose to send him after the Vitruvian Units...were they truly that much greater a force?

The only person he felt he could ask about this was in Angelo City, across the Mediterranean Sea. He walked toward the bike that belonged to the tavern behind him, swinging one leg over the seat. He reached the saddlebag, pulling out a black leather jacket. He threw it over his shoulders, thrusting his arms through the sleeves. He pulled fingerless gloves from the pockets, slipping them onto his hands, flexing them as he fastened the velcro on his wrists.

His hands wrapped around the handlebars as he leaned forward. His goal now was to find Captain Baha: maybe by then he would have found his answer. The motorcycle roared to life as he looked back at the bar; he still had a headache, and the thought of sleep hung at the edge of his consciousness, but as he looked back to the road, he knew that he had to make the choice.

The sun reached the top of the sky as Dante road about the city, looking for the captain. He had checked some of the port taverns where he expected to find him, but never came across him; the smell of the ocean air covered the Devil Hunter. This wasn't an unwelcome smell; better than the smell of demonic blood that almost constantly covered him. It had been almost a month since he'd left for Angelo City...and now he was all the way across the sea from Limbo City.

He stopped at a crossing, looking up to see Vitruvian Units wandering about the pedestrian areas. They seemed benign, if one didn't know that these were the bodies of dead human beings trapped inside the machines. Dante understood what Lucas had said...these were perhaps the only beings that could stand up against the Sins which stalked him, but as he looked at their metallic shine, their chrome shells...he couldn't help but feel a certain malevolence in them. It sent shivers down his spine.

He revved the bike and continued forward through the city, gazing upon the people who lived there. They lived much differently than the people of New Limbo did; they did not have a dome around them to protect them from demons. He supposed the huge buildings and high walls helped deter demons from invading, but the Vitruvian Units also fought to keep the streets clean. Maybe they were a solution...as evil as they felt.

He heard the little girl's scream in his mind once more, remembering how helpless he was to stop her from becoming a Vitruvian Unit. He came to a stop near the Oceanfront, a fishing port. Since he couldn't find Baha at any of the pubs, he had a feeling he might find the captain at one of the ports. There were no ships to be seen, certainly nothing like the _Angel's Passage_ around this port. Then again, he didn't even recall if Baha was able to keep the ship.

He wandered about the boardwalk, looking for the captain who faced the Demon of the Deep alongside him. Thinking of the monster in the Mediterranean brought his blood to a boil; there was a foe he felt good about fighting, a demon whose power felt right to face off against. Unlike the Vitruvian Units which remained ashore, staring down at everyone who was fishing still. They were far more ominous than a demon, and sword strikes felt different...was it because Rebellion did not tear into flesh, but rather was reflected off of steel? Or because they were human beings that were killed in the name of fighting demons? He couldn't tell.

He sat on the end of the boardwalk, looking down at the water. In it he saw his reflection, but past his reflection he saw some fish that swam about, minding their own business in the ocean water. He folded his hands as he continued to stare into it, thinking of where to search next. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched, turning to see the old cook Jefferson. "Aye, what is a landlubber like ye doin' 'pon a port such as this?"

"Hey Jefferson." Dante responded, smiling. It was nice to see Jefferson, the person he'd worked alongside most upon the _Angel's Passage_. Also one of the few demon-fighting members of the crew, he and Dante had bonded over stories of foes slain and battles won. "I'm actually looking for the captain."

"Ah, Baha 'n'me 'aven't seen much o' each other since you were taken 'way by th'machine men." Jefferson responded, sitting down next to the hunter and casting a line with the fishing pole he had brought with him. "Mostly just been me fightin' fer life 'mong cityfolk. Tell me, 'ow'd you get outta custody?"

"I just had some good friends in town." Dante responded, his eyes following the line into the water. "The corpsebots are..." That was when he stopped and looked up at Jefferson. "...I was told the whole crew was incarcerated. Maximum security. How'd you escape?" Jefferson looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"'oo told ye that? Hogwash."

"Then what did the Vitruvian Units do with you after I got captured?"

"They took us in for questioning. None of us knew ye were...quite so different." He looked to the sea's waters, shaking his head. "They released us quickly enough." Dante let out a sigh as this was explained to him; why did the interrogator lie to him? It made no sense, what was the point? Perhaps he just said what the nephilim wanted to hear in order to get more of a response, like Dante was doing with the "Anthony Redgrave" bit. Nevertheless, the hunter stood from his position on the boardwalk, bidding the man goodbye.

"Look me up sometime, mate." the chef of the _Angel's Passage_ said as Dante departed.

"Sure thing." Once more Dante saddled up on the motorcycle, sighing as he glanced down at the ground. He revved the bike up and rode off, back towards the Dead Man's Respite. Surely he could believe the word of Jefferson over that of the interrogator, but he didn't know...after what he had seen out of Pride, being able to create his own Limbo, he didn't know what else to expect when it was the Sins who hunted him.

Finally he rode up to the tavern, now late afternoon as he opened the door. There were some more customers in the place now that Cain decided to start serving drinks again, though Kat remained at the bar drinking water. The bartender waved him over and called somebody else, and soon Dante found himself face to face with Captain Baha. The man's features hadn't changed a bit since they had worked together upon the _Angel's Passage._

"I told him you'd be back soon. You almost missed the chance to take the mission." Cain explained while Dante looked at the man. "You are still gonna take the mission, right Dante?" All three pairs of eyes were now trained on the hunter who sat at the bar, still needing to decide on what he was going to do.

The Sins...or the Vitruvian Units? If he was going to win one battle, it would be the one against the Vitruvian Units...but if one battle was going to matter more, wouldn't it have made more sense to be the defeat of the Sins? "Dante...the Sins captured me, and I still consider the Vitruvians to be more of a threat. The Sins have always existed, and will still continue to exist...but the Vitruvians are only stoppable now."

"Kat, I can't..."

"Can't what? Fight both?" The captain's interjection caused Dante to jump.

"The only reason I escaped is because the manufacturer of the corpsebots, a man named Lucas, happened to be a fan of the old man." He sat down at the bar. "I agreed to stay away from the corpsebots if he'd keep them away from me, that way I can hunt down the Sins."

"Making deals for your life." Cain said, and shook his head. "Somehow I thought your escape to be a bit more...hm...heroic. Ah well."

"So you're saying you can't fight them."

"Not until the Sins are defeated." Dante looked at Kat sadly.

"Dante...he's not expecting your attack."

"Lass, he..."

"If you strike now and destroy their making of the Vitruvians, they can't have any power over you. If you destroy them now, then you don't have to worry about the Sins being able to hide away in the city. That and, as crafty as they are, wouldn't they hide behind this 'Lucas' person to keep you from gaining any ground on them whatsoever?" Kat's words struck hard and stung deep in Dante's chest. She was right; fighting the Vitruvians now was the only answer. Lucas wouldn't be able to stop him once he was short an army.

"I'm in." Dante admitted at last, looking up at the captain. "Alright I'm in. I'll take the fight to the Vitruvians." The captain nodded and pulled out a parchment, laying it across the counter. A map was displayed across it, as well as three walkie-talkies.

"I had a tech friend upgrade these a bit so we can be in contact at all times." The captain explained. "I only had three done, I wasn't expecting the girl to be part of this."

"Heh, you kidding? Kat is the best coordinator there is." Dante responded, grinning.

"I'd like to say I do a good job myself." Cain added. "We'll share."

"Looks like you have your own crew, Dante." The captain commented. "Okay, so the plan is to invade through the back of the facility. There is a hole in their defenses for an hour every day, the schedule is clearly planned by humans. We have that grace period to get inside. Once in, Dante and I will investigate what the point of these things is, and how to destroy them." His finger slid across the parchment as Dante buckled the walkie-talkie to the front of his shoulder.

"Here is where the core of the plant is. Dante and I will destroy it with some C4, should be simple enough to bring their entire production to a halt."

"Alright, so where do you need me in all this? Any Devil Hunter could pull this job off."

"You're insurance, Dante. A demon-hunting demon comes in handy more often than not, so even if we are discovered, we can fight off whatever security comes our way."

"Alright, where're we gonna get some C4?"

"It'll put off my present for you, but we have some in the back." Cain suggested, sitting forward.

"That's settled. So when do we leave?"

"Now, the window of time we have is almost up. I hope you have something fast to ride." The captain stood up. "Mr. Cain, Ms. Kat, I trust you to be good enough topographers and navigators to aid us in this mission."

"Aye aye, cap." Cain responded, standing up and moving to study the map that remained on the counter, Kat soon joining him. Dante and Baha reached the bike, and the hunter saddled up while the captain sat behind him.

"This doesn't seem very safe." The captain commented while Dante revved the machine up.

"The whole operation is unsafe, you're gonna complain now?" The captain scoffed at the hunter's quip. As they flew past street after street, the clock ticked to the time window they had to be in and out of the facility. They finally turned around the bend and approached a large, ominous looking factory.

The motorcycle halted by a place Dante was all-too familiar with. The graveyard, and the first of the inside of the city he had seen. "There's a reverse entrance in here," he commented, walking towards the grave he had pulled out of. He laid his hand on the headstone, and the captain stood before the grave.

"While there is no security, it is best we don't mess around with sneaking around and side entrances." He stood up and walked towards the door of the factory, laying his hand on the door. Dante's walkie-talkie sprang to life, Kat's voice over it.

"He's right, they have reinforced the defenses around that escape since you got out." Dante reached up and pressed the button down on the device.

"Alright, works for me." He released the button and walked closely behind the captain, who had already entered the dark building.

"Dante, Baha, can you hear me?" Cain's voice sounded out of their devices.

"Yes." Baha responded quietly.

"Good, now I've looked over the schematics of the building a bit—hold that thought, customer." There was a moment of silence, yelling then erupted, followed by more silence. "Sorry about that, had to tell a customer he'd had enough. Anyway, fortune smiles on us, that not only is there no security, but nobody to stop you at all."

"...seems almost too good to be true." Dante responded, holding down the button on his device.

"That's what has me worried. You two'd better hurry and do what you're gonna do. I don't like how convenient this all is."

"Roger that. Dante out." Dante responded and released the button, returning to following Baha. "Okay, something's wrong with this image..." he muttered, looking around nervously. "Where are all the staff? Even if robotic..."

"Everything is on shutdown at this hour. Suspicious, but it's our greatest chance to learn anything about these things."

"So we're finally to the point that pissing people off on purpose is the only way to get anywhere." The captain nodded. "This is my kind of world." As they explored the place, they found several tubes filled with mechanical parts, but a strange lack of any people. Dante had hoped he would be able to at least release a few of the captives, but his heart sank as the truth found its way through. There was nobody here to be saved; at least, not in his sight.

"Kat," Dante said, pressing down the communicator's button to talk, "where are all the people? The main ingredient of these metal monsters."

"The schematics show a holding chamber above the computer room." Kat responded after a short pause. "It's out of your way though, it's best to just destroy the place and get out."

"...Kat...? I'm not going to sacrifice these innocent people." Dante responded. "Cap, the innocent people are being held upstairs. You go take care of the computer situation, I'll free the captive audience to this horror show and we'll meet at the finale."

"Dante, are you sure?" Kat responded over the device. "It could jeopardize the mission."

"Screw the mission," Dante spoke. "This needs to be done. We're here to protect people, as well as strike at our enemies." He paused a moment. "...I'm not Vergil."

"Dante, he has nothing to do with—"

"Cain, I'm in the lobby, give me the quickest route to the holding room for these people."

"Alright...the holding room...lemme see..." As Cain directed Dante, the hunter followed the instructions through dark passages and ominous halls, until finally he came upon the room above the computer room. In the room there were several chrome tubes leading out into a central room before him, filled with vats akin to the one he saw the girl in.

"I'm in...I think." Dante said, pressing down the button on his communicator. "In front of me there's a huge room filled with vats of whatever they use to turn humans into fresh corpses."

"Same here." Cain responded over the receiver. "I'm on the computer now...trying to find out what the main thing these guys are up to is."

"I'll help you with the computer stuff if you need," Kat suggested, while Dante strolled about the holding chamber.

"Where are the people? I don't see anybody..." he muttered, without pressing the button on his device, listening to Kat and Baha's conversation.

"That's kind, but before all this I was in the Navy. I know the ins and outs of a computer pretty well I should hope." There was a long silence while Dante continued to explore the room, looking for any traces of the people he was told would be there.

"Kat? You sure this is the place?"

"I'm sure Dante. You two should hurry, you have five minutes to be out of there."

"Guys," Baha piped up over the chatter, "I found something interesting. The Vitruvian Units have a code that can drastically alter the way these guys work."

"Drastically alter?" Dante asked, running a hand across a control panel. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, first of all, fighting demons is exactly what they are programmed to do, but whoever has this code...will be able to change what they are programmed to do. They can be edited to do anything. Kill demons, kill angels..."

"...kill people." Dante finished, pressing a button down on the panel. A loud whirring roared up, and the room started to shake.

"Dante, what did you do?" the question came over the device, but Dante ignored it as the tubes opened to reveal entire rooms filled with people. They were all sleeping, but their expressions were as troubled as if they were being tortured.

"I found the people..." Dante muttered, but heard something over the radio he wasn't expecting.

"Ms. Kat, what are you doing?" The button must have been accidentally pressed down, or perhaps Cain had done something to make sure it remained pressed down. Sounds of struggles could be heard over the communicator. Before Dante could focus any further, a huge force slammed him through the window, smashing him through several vats and shredding him with glass. He lay in a bloody pool, looking up to see the Vitruvian Mark Two robot before him. It landed, creating a tremor.

"What the hell is that?!" Baha screamed over the communicator. Dante could see the captain pulling a universal drive out of the computer, stashing it in his coat pocket.

"Get out of here cap..." Dante muttered, pushing himself to his feet as the machine stepped forward. He drew Rebellion, holding it between himself and the machine.

"One day, Son of Sparda. One day..." the voice of Lucas sounded over the communicator. Dante's eyebrow raised, before the man chuckled. "I hacked into your network. Ms. Kat was very capable at sending us everything that had transpired during this dreadful lapse in security."

"...Lucas..." Dante muttered, not believing what had been said. "Kat isn't a traitor! You asshole, come out here and fight me yourself!"

"You are a loyal little pet aren't you, Dante?" Lucas responded, the Vitruvian shifting into a defensive stance with its arms held before it, crossed over one another. "How do you think I knew you were here? I rely on my Vitruvian Units to protect the facility themselves." Dante shook his head. "Well, Ms. Kat, will you deny my story?"

"...I'm sorry Dante." Kat finally said. Her words made Dante's heart stop; the sword Rebellion fell from his hands as his eyes opened wide.

"Kat...why...?" he managed to ask, backing up from the Vitruvian slowly.

"Dante, you are the greatest danger to humanity." Kat tried to explain. "I-if Vergil were here, you two would have been able to protect us...but alone, you're just a...a..."

"A what? Say it Kat...say it!" Tears welled up in Dante's eyes as he pulled Ebony and Ivory from his jeans.

"A...a demon!"

"Fuck you!" Dante cried out, firing bullet after bullet at the Vitruvian, which lifted him off the ground with great ease, hoisting him in the air by his whole torso. He continued to fire upon the machine as it crushed him.

"Dante, I'm sorry..." Kat said as Dante cried out in pain. He fired bullet after bullet, each one doing no good until finally he was so crushed he couldn't breath. "I...I wanted you to know that..." she continued. Dante struggled for breath, his entire torso being smashed by the bot's impressive strength, blood oozing from him as his skin was pierced by the crushing steel.

Finally the communicator came loose and fell to the floor into a pool of Dante's blood, as he cried out one final time.  
"I love you."


End file.
